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SORDELLO. 


SOEDELLO. 


BY   ROBERT   BROWNING. 


LONDON: 
EDWARD  MOXON,  DOVER  STREET. 

MDCCCXL. 


LONDON : 

BRADBURY   AND   fiVANS,   PRINlfiRS, 

WHrXEFRlARS. 


SORDELLO. 


BOOK  THE   FIRST. 

Who  will,  may  hear  Sordello's  story  told  : 
His  story  ?     Who  believes  me  shall  behold 
The  man,  pursue  his  fortunes  to  the  end 
Like  me  ;  for  as  the  friendless  people's  friend 
Spied  from  his  hill-top  once,  despite  the  din 
And  dust  of  multitudes,  Pentapolin 
Named  o*  the  Naked  Arm,  I  single  out 
Sordello,  compassed  murkily  about 
With  ravage  of  six  long  sad  hundred  years  : 
Only  believe  me.     Ye  believe  ? 

Appears 
Verona  .  .  .  Never,  I  should  warn  you  first, 
Of  my  own  choice  had  this,  if  not  the  worst 

B 


2  SORDELLO. 

Yet  not  the  best  expedient,  served  to  tell 
A  story  I  could  body  forth  so  well 
By  making  speak,  myself  kept  out  of  view, 
The  very  man  as  he  was  wont  to  do. 
And  leaving  you  to  say  the  rest  for  him  : 
Since,  though  I  might  be  proud  to  see  the  dim 
Abysmal  Past  divide  its  hateful  surge, 
Letting  of  all  men  this  one  man  emerge 
Because  it  pleased  me,  yet,  that  moment  past, 
I  should  delight  in  watching  first  to  last 
His  progress  as  you  watch  it,  not  a  whit 
More  in  the  secret  than  yourselves  who  sit 
Fresh-chapleted  to  listen  :  but  it  seems 
Your  setters-forth  of  unexampled  themes. 
Makers  of  quite  new  men,  producing  them 
Had  best  chalk  broadly  on  each  vesture's  hem 
The  wearer  s  quality,  or  take  his  stand 
Motley  on  back  and  pointing-pole  in  hand 
Beside  them ;  so  for  once  I  face  ye,  friends. 
Summoned  together  from  the  world's  four  ends, 
Dropped  down  from  Heaven  or  cast  up  from  Hell, 
To  hear  the  story  I  propose  to  tell. 
Confess  now,  poets  know  the  dragnet's  trick, 
Catching  the  dead  if  Fate  denies  the  quick 


SORDELLO.  3 

And  shaming  her ;  *tis  not  for  Fate  to  choose 
Silence  or  song  because  she  can  refuse 
Real  eyes  to  glisten  more,  real  hearts  to  ache 
Less  oft,  real  brows  turn  smoother  for  our  sake : 
I  have  experienced  something  of  her  spite  ; 
But  there's  a  realm  wherein  she  has  no  right 
And  I  have  many  lovers :  say  but  few 
Friends  Fate  accords  me  ?    Here  they  are;  now  view 
The  host  I  muster  !     Many  a  lighted  face 
Foul  with  no  vestige  of  the  grave's  disgrace ; 
What  else  should  tempt  them  back  to  taste  our  air 
Except  to  see  how  their  successors  fare  ? 
My  audience :  and  they  sit,  each  ghostly  man 
Striving  to  look  as  living  as  he  can, 
Brother  by  breathing  brother ;  thou  art  set, 
Clear-witted  critic,  by  .  .  .  but  I'll  not  fret 
A  wondrous  soul  of  them,  nor  move  Death's  spleen 
Who  loves  not  to  unlock  them.     Friends  !  I  mean 
The  living  in  good  earnest — ye  elect 
Chiefly  for  love — suppose  not  I  reject 
Judicious  praise,  who  contrary  shall  peep 
Some  fit  occasion  forth,  for  fear  ye  sleep. 
To  glean  your  bland  approvals.     Then,  appear, 
Yerona  !  stay — thou,  spirit,  come  not  near 
B  2 


4  SORDELLO. 

Now — nor  this  time  desert  thy  cloudy  place 

To  scare  me,  thus  employed,  with  that  pure  face ! 

I  need  not  fear  this  audience,  I  make  free 

With  them,  but  then  this  is  no  place  for  thee  ! 

The  thunder-phrase  of  the  Athenian,  grown 

Up  out  of  memories  of  Marathon, 

Would  echo  like  his  own  sword's  griding  screech 

Braying  a  Persian  shield, — the  silver  speech 

Of  Sidney's  self,  the  starry  paladin, 

Turn  intense  as  a  trumpet  sounding  in 

The  knights  to  tilt — wert  thou  to  hear !    What  hear 

Have  I  to  play  my  puppets,  bear  my  part 

Before  these  worthies  ? 

Lo,  the  Past  is  hurled 
In  twain  :  up  thrust,  out-staggering  on  the  world. 
Subsiding  into  shape,  a  darkness  rears 
Its  outline,  kindles  at  the  core,  appears 
Verona.     Tis  six  hundred  years  and  more 
Since  an  event.     The  Second  Friedrich  wore 
The  purple,  and  the  Third  Honorius  filled 
The  holy  chair.     That  autumn  eve  was  stilled  : 
A  last  remains  of  sunset  dimly  burned 
O'er  the  far  forests  like  a  torch-flame  turned 
By  the  wind  back  upon  its  bearer  s  hand 
In  one  long  flare  of  crimson ;  as  a  brand 


SORDELLO.  5 

The  woods  beneath  lay  black.     A  single  eye 
From  all  Yerona  cared  for  the  soft  sky ; 
But,  gathering  in  its  ancient  market-place, 
Talked  group  with  restless  group  ;  and  not  a  face 
But  wrath  made  livid,  for  among  them  were 
Death's  staunch  purveyors,  such  as  have  in  care 
To  feast  him.     Fear  had  long  since  taken  root 
In  every  breast,  and  now  these  crushed  its  fruit, 
The  ripe  hate,  like  a  wine  :  to  note  the  way 
It  worked  while  each  grew  drunk !  men  grave  and  grey 
Stood,  with  shut  eyelids,  rocking  to  and  fro. 
Letting  the  silent  luxury  trickle  slow 
About  the  hollows  where  a  heart  should  be ; 
But  the  young  gulped  with  a  delirious  glee 
Some  foretaste  of  their  first  debauch  in  blood 
At  the  fierce  news  :  for,  be  it  understood, 
Envoys  apprised  Verona  that  her  prince 
Count  Richard  of  Saint  Boniface,  joined  since 
A  year  with  Azzo,  Este's  Lord,  to  thrust 
Taurello  Salinguerra,  prime  in  trust 
With  Ecelin  Romano,  from  his  seat 
Ferrara, — over  zealous  in  the  feat 
And  stumbling  on  a  peril  unaware. 
Was  captive,  "  trammelled  in  his  proper  snare," 


5  SORDELLO. 

They  phrase  it,  "  taken  by  his  own  intrigue  :" 
Immediate  succour,  from  the  Lombard  League 
Of  fifteen  cities  that  affect  the  Pope, 
For  Azzo  therefore  and  his  fellow — hope 
Of  the  Guelf  cause,  a  glory  overcast ! 
Men's  faces,  late  agape,  are  now  aghast : 
Prone  is  the  purple  pavice  ;  Este  makes 
Mirth  for  the  Devil  when  he  undertakes 
To  play  the  Ecelin ;  as  if  it  cost 
Merely  your  pushing-by  to  gain  a  post 
Like  his  !     The  patron  tells  ye,  once  for  all. 
There  be  sound  reasons  that  preferment  fall 
On  our  beloved  .  .  . 

Duke  o'  the  Rood,  why  not  ? 
Shouted  an  Estian,  grudge  ye  such  a  lot  ? 
The  hill-cat  boasts  some  cunning  of  her  own. 
Some  stealthy  trick  to  better  beasts  unknown 
That  quick  with  prey  enough  her  hunger  blunts 
And  feeds  her  fat  while  gaunt  the  lion  hunts. 

Taurello,  quoth  an  envoy,  as  in  wane 
Dwelt  at  Ferrara.     Like  an  osprey  fain 
To  fly  but  forced  the  earth  his  couch  to  make 
Far  inland  till  his  friend  the  tempest  wake. 
Waits  he  the  Kaiser  s  coming  ;  and  as  yet 
That  fast  friend  sleeps,  and  he  too  sleeps ;  but  let 


SORDELLO.  7 

Only  the  billow  freshen,  and  he  snuffs 

The  aroused  hurricane  ere  it  enroughs 

The  sea  it  means  to  cross  because  of  him  : 

Sinketh  the  breeze  ?    His  hope-sick  eye  grows  dim  ; 

Creep  closer  on  the  creature  !     Every  day 

Strengthens  the  Pontiff;  Ecelin,  they  say, 

Dozes  at  Oliero,  with  dry  lips 

Telling  upon  his  perished  finger-tips 

How  many  ancestors  are  to  depose 

Ere  he  be  Satan's  Viceroy  when  the  doze 

Deposits  him  in  hell ;  so  Guelfs  rebuilt 

Their  houses ;  not  a  drop  of  blood  was  spilt 

When  Cino  Bocchimpane  chanced  to  meet 

Buccio  Yirtii ;  God's  wafer,  and  the  street 

Is  narrow !     Tutti  Santi,  think,  a-swarm 

With  Ghibellins,  and  yet  he  took  no  harm. 

This  could  not  last.     Off  Salinguerra  went 

To  Padua,  Podesta,  with  pure  intent. 

Said  he,  my  presence,  judged  the  single  bar 

To  permanent  tranquillity,  may  jar 

No  longer — so  !  his  back  is  fairly  turned  ? 

The  pair  of  goodly  palaces  are  burned, 

The  gardens  ravaged,  and  your  Guelf  is  drunk 

A  week  with  joy  ;  the  next,  his  laughter  sunk 


8  SORDELLO. 

In  sobs  of  blood,  for  he  found,  some  strange  way, 

Old  Salinguerra  back  again ;  I  say 

Old  Salinguerra  in  the  town  once  more 

Uprooting,  overturning,  flame  before 

Blood  fetlock- high  beneath  him ;  Azzo  fled  ; 

Who  scaped  the  carnage  followed ;  then  the  dead 

Were  pushed  aside  from  Salinguerra's  throne. 

He  ruled  once  more  Ferrara,  all  alone. 

Till  Azzo,  stunned  awhile,  revived,  would  pounce  ; 

Coupled  with  Boniface,  like  lynx  and  ounce. 

On  the  gorged  bird.    The  burghers  ground  their  teeth 

To  see  troop  after  troop  encamp  beneath 

r  the  standing  corn  thick  o'er  the  scanty  patch 

It  took  so  many  patient  months  to  snatch 

Out  of  the  marsh ;  while  just  within  their  walls 

Men  fed  on  men.     Astute  Taurello  calls 

A  parley :  let  the  Count  wind  up  the  war  ! 

Richard,  light-hearted  as  a  plunging  star, 

Agrees  to  enter  for  the  kindest  ends 

Ferrara,  flanked  with  fifty  chosen  friends, 

No  horse-boy  more  for  fear  your  timid  sort 

Should  fly  Ferrara  at  the  bare  report. 

Quietly  through  the  town  they  rode,  jog- jog ; 

Ten,  twenty,  thirty  .  .  .  curse  the  catalogue 


SORDELLO.  9 

Of  burnt  Guelf  houses  !     Strange  Taurello  shows 
Not  the  least  sign  of  life — whereat  arose 
A  general  growl :  How  ?     With  his  victors  by  ? 
I  and  my  Veronese  ?     My  troops  and  I  ? 
Receive  us,  was  your  word  ?  so  jogged  they  on, 
Nor  laughed  their  host  too  openly  :  once  gone 
Into  the  trap  ... 

Six  hundred  years  ago  ! 
Such  the  time's  aspect  and  peculiar  woe 
(Yourselves  may  spell  it  yet  in  chronicles, 
Albeit  the  worm,  our  busy  brother,  drills 
His  sprawling  path  through  letters  anciently 
Made  fine  and  large  to  suit  some  abbot's  eye) 
When  the  new  HohenstaufFen  dropped  the  mask, 
Flung  John  of  Brienne's  favor  from  his  casque, 
Forswore  crusading,  had  no  mind  to  leave 
Saint  Peter  s  proxy  leisure  to  retrieve 
Losses  to  Otho  and  to  Barbaross, 
Or  make  the  Alps  less  easy  to  recross ; 
And  thus  confirming  Pope  Honorius'  fear, 
Was  excommunicate  that  very  year. 
The  triple-bearded  Teuton  come  to  life  ! 
Groaned  the  Great  League;  and,  arming  for  the  strife. 
Wide  Lombardy,  on  tiptoe  to  begin, 
Took  up,  as  it  was  Guelf  or  Ghibellin, 


10  SORDELLO, 

Its  cry;  what  cry  ? 

The  Emperor  to  come  ! 
His  crowd  of  feudatories,  all  and  some 
That  leapt  down  with  a  crash  of  swords,  spears,  shields, 
One  fighter  on  his  fellow,  to  our  fields. 
Scattered  anon,  took  station  here  and  there, 
And  carried  it,  till  now,  with  little  care — 
Cannot  but  cry  for  him  ;  how  else  rebut 
Us  longer  ?     Cliffs  an  earthquake  suffered  jut 
In  the  mid-sea,  each  domineering  crest 
Nothing  save  such  another  throe  can  wrest 
From  out  (conceive)  a  certain  chokeweed  grown 
Since  o'er  the  waters,  twine  and  tangle  thrown 
Too  thick,  too  fast  accumulating  round, 
Too  sure  to  over-riot  and  confound 
Ere  long  each  brilliant  islet  with  itself 
Unless  a  second  shock  save  shoal  and  shelf, 
Whirling  the  sea-drift  wide  :  alas,  the  bruised 
And  sullen  wreck  !     Sunlight  to  be  diffused 
For  that !     Sunlight,  'neatli  which,  a  scum  at  first. 
The  million  fibres  of  our  chokeweed  nurst 
Dispread  themselves,  mantling  the  troubled  main. 
And,  shattered  by  those  rocks,  took  hold  again 
So  kindly  blazed  it — that  same  blaze  to  brood 
O'er  every  cluster  of  the  multitude 


SORDELLO.  11 

Still  hazarding  new  clasps,  ties,  filaments, 
An  emulous  exchange  of  pulses,  vents 
Of  nature  into  nature ;  till  some  growth 
Unfancied  yet  exuberantly  clothe 
A  surface  solid  now,  continuous,  one : 
The  Pope,  for  us  the  People,  who  begun 
The  People,  carries  on  the  People  thus. 
To  keep  that  Kaiser  o£f  and  dwell  with  us  ! 
See  you  ? 

Or  say.  Two  Principles  that  live 
Each  fitly  by  its  Representative  : 
Hill-cat  .  .  .  who  called  him  so,  our  gracefidlest 
Adventurer  ?  the  ambiguous  stranger-guest 
Of  Lombardy  (sleek  but  that  ruffling  fur. 
Those  talons  to  their  sheath !)  whose  velvet  purr 
Soothes  jealous  neighbours  when  a  Saxon  scout 
.  .  .  Arpo  or  Yoland,  is  it  ?  one  without 
A  country  or  a  name,  presumes  to  couch 
Beside  their  noblest ;  until  men  avouch 
That  of  all  Houses  in  the  Trivisan 
Conrad  descries  no  fitter,  rear  or  van. 
Than  Ecelo  !    They  laughed  as  they  enrolled 
That  name  at  Milan  on  the  page  of  gold 
For  Godego,  Ramon,  Marostica, 
Cartiglion,  Bassano,  Loria, 


12  SORDELLO. 

And  every  sheep-cote  on  the  Suabian  s  fief ! 

No  laughter  when  his  son,  the  Lombard  Chief 

Forsooth,  as  Barbarossa's  path  was  bent 

To  Italy  along  the  Yale  of  Trent, 

Welcomed  him  at  Roncaglia  !  Sadness  now — 

The  hamlets  nested  on  the  Tyrol's  brow. 

The  Asolan  and  Euganean  hills, 

The  Rhetian  and  the  Julian,  sadness  fills 

Them  all  that  Ecelin  vouchsafes  to  stay 

Among  and  care  about  them  ;  day  by  day 

Choosing  this  pinnacle,  the  other  spot, 

A  castle  building  to  defend  a  cot, 

A  cot  built  for  a  castle  to  defend. 

Nothing  but  castles,  castles,  nor  an  end 

To  boasts  how  mountain  ridge  may  join  with  ridge 

By  sunken  gallery  and  soaring  bridge — 

He  takes,  in  brief,  a  figure  that  beseems 

The  griesliest  nightmare  of  the  Church's  dreams, 

A  Signory  firm-rooted,  unestranged 

From  its  old  interests,  and  nowise  changed 

By  its  new  neighbourhood  ;  perchance  the  vaunt 

Of  Otho,  "  my  own  Este  shall  supplant 

Your  Este,'*  come  to  pass.    The  sire  led  in 

A  son  as  cruel ;  and  this  Ecelin 


BORDELLO.  13 

Had  sons,  in  turn,  and  daughters  sly  and  tall. 

And  curling  and  compliant ;  but  for  all 

Romano  (so  they  style  him)  thrives,  that  neck 

Of  his  so  pinched  and  white,  that  hungry  cheek 

Prove  'tis  some  fiend,  not  him,  men  s  flesh  is  meant 

To  feed  :  whereas  Romano's  instrument. 

Famous  Taurello  Salinguerra,  sole 

I*  the  world,  a  tree  whose  boughs  are  slipt  the  bole 

Successively,  why  shall  not  he  shed  blood 

To  further  a  design  ?     Men  understood 

Living  was  pleasant  to  him  as  he  wore 

His  careless  surcoat,  glanced  some  missive  o'er, 

Propped  on  his  truncheon  in  the  public  way. 

Ecelin  lifts  two  writhen  hands  to  pray 

At  Oliero's  convent  now  :  so,  place 

For  Azzo,  Lion  of  the  .  .  .  why  disgrace 

A  worthiness  conspicuous  near  and  far 

(Atii  at  Rome  while  free  and  consular, 

Este  at  Padua  to  repulse  the  Hun) 

By  trumpeting  the  Church's  princely  son 

Styled  Patron  of  Rovigo's  Polesine, 

Ancona's  March,  Ferrara's  .  .  .  ask,  in  fine. 

Your  chronicles,  commenced  when  some  old  monk 

Found  it  intolerable  to  be  sunk 


14  SORDELLO. 

(Vexed  to  the  quick  by  his  revolting  cell) 
Quite  out  of  summer  while  alive  and  well : 
Ended  when  by  his  mat  the  Prior  stood, 
Mid  busy  promptings  of  the  brotherhood, 
Striving  to  coax  from  his  decrepit  brains 
The  reason  Father  Porphyry  took  pains 
To  blot  those  ten  lines  out  which  used  to  stand 
First  on  their  charter  drawn  by  Hildebrand. 

The  same  night  wears.     Yerona's  rule  of  yore 
Was  vested  in  a  certain  Twenty-four ; 
And  while  within  his  palace  these  debate 
Concerning  Richard  and  Ferrara's  fate. 
Glide  we  by  clapping  doors,  with  sudden  glare 
Of  cressets  vented  on  the  dark,  nor  care 
For  aught  that 's  seen  or  heard  until  we  shut 
The  smother  in,  the  lights,  all  noises  but 
The  carroch's  booming ;  safe  at  last !  Why  strange 
Such  a  recess  should  lurk  behind  a  range 
Of  banquet-rooms  ?  Your  finger — thus — you  push 
A  spring,  and  the  wall  opens,  would  you  rush 
Upon  the  banqueters,  select  your  prey, 
Waiting,  the  slaughter- weapons  in  the  way 
Strewing  this  very  bench,  with  sharpened  ear 
A  preconcerted  signal  to  appear ; 


SORDELLO.  15 

Or  if  you  simply  crouch  with  beating  heart 
Bearing  in  some  voluptuous  pageant  part 
To  startle  them.     Nor  mutes  nor  masquers  now  ; 
Nor  any  .  .  .  does  that  one  man  sleep  whose  brow 
The  dying  lamp-flame  sinks  and  rises  o'er  ? 
What  woman  stood  beside  him  ?  not  the  more 
Is  he  unfastened  from  the  earnest  eyes 
Because  that  arras  fell  between !     Her  wise 
And  lulling  words  are  yet  about  the  room, 
Her  presence  wholly  poured  upon  the  gloom 
Down  even  to  her  vesture's  creeping  stir  : 
And  so  reclines  he,  saturate  with  her. 
Until  an  outcry  from  the  square  beneath 
Pierces  the  charm  :  he  springs  up,  glad  to  breathe 
Above  the  cunning  element,  and  shakes 
The  stupor  off"  as  (look  you)  morning  breaks 
On  the  gay  dress,  and,  near  concealed  by  it, 
The  lean  frame  like  a  half-burnt  taper,  lit 
Erst  at  some  marriage-feast,  then  laid  away 
Till  the  Armenian  bridegroom's  dying-day. 
In  his  wool  wedding-robe ;  for  he — for  he — 
"  Gate- vein  of  this  hearts'  blood  of  Lombardy" 
(If  I  should  falter  now) — for  he  is  Thine  ! 
Sordello,  thy  forerunner,  Florentine  ! 


16  SORDELLO. 

A  herald-star  I  know  thou  didst  absorb 
Relentless  into  the  consummate  orb 
That  scared  it  from  its  right  to  roll  along 
^  A  sempiternal  path  with  dance  and  song 
Fulfilling  its  allotted  period 
Serenest  of  the  progeny  of  God 
Who  yet  resigns  it  not ;  his  darling  stoops 
With  no  quenched  lights,  desponds  with  no  blank  troops 
Of  disenfranchised  brilliances,  for,  blent 
Utterly  with  thee,  its  shy  element 
Like  thine  upburneth  prosperous  and  clear  : 
Still,  what  if  I  approach  the  august  sphere 
Named  now  with  only  one  name,  disentwine 
That  under  current  soft  and  argentine 
From  its  fierce  mate  in  the  majestic  mass 
Leavened  as  the  sea  w^hose  fire  was  mixt  with  glass 
In  John  s  transcendent  vision,  launch  once  more 
That  lustre  ?     Dante,  pacer  of  the  shore 
Where  glutted  Hell  disgorgeth  filthiest  gloom, 
Unbitten  by  its  whirring  sulphur -spume — 
Or  whence  the  grieved  and  obscure  waters  slope 
Into  a  darkness  quieted  by  hope — 
Plucker  of  amaranths  grown  beneath  God's  eye 
In  gracious  twilights  where  his  Chosen  lie, 


SORDELLO.  ]  7 

I  would  do  this !  if  I  should  falter  now — 

In  Mantua- territory  half  is  slough 
Half  pine-tree  forest ;  maples,  scarlet-oaks 
Breed  o'er  the  river-beds  ;  even  Mincio  chokes 
With  sand  the  summer  through ;  but  'tis  morass 
In  winter  up  to  Mantua  walls.     There  was 
(Some  thirty  years  before  this  evening's  coil) 
One  spot  reclaimed  from  the  surrounding  spoil, 
Goito  ;  just  a  castle  built  amid 
A  few  low  mountains  ;  firs  and  larches  hid 
Their  main  defiles  and  rings  of  vineyard  bound 
The  rest :  some  captured  creature  in  a  pound, 
Whose  artless  wonder  quite  precludes  distress, 
Secure  beside  in  its  own  loveliness, 
So  peered  with  airy  head,  below,  above, 
The  castle  at  its  toils  the  lapwings  love 
To  glean  among  at  grape-time.     Pass  within  : 
A  maze  of  corridors  contrived  for  sin. 
Dusk  winding- stairs,  dim  galleries  got  past, 
You  gain  the  inmost  chambers,  gain  at  last 
A  maple-panelled  room  :  that  haze  which  seems 
Floating  about  the  panel,  if  there  gleams 
A  sunbeam  over  it  will  turn  to  gold 
And  in  light-graven  characters  unfold 
c 


18  SORDELLO. 

The  Arab's  wisdom  everywhere  ;  what  shade 

Marred  them  a  moment,  those  slim  pillars  made, 

Cut  like  a  company  of  palms  to  prop 

The  roof,  each  kissing  top  entwined  with  top, 

Leaning  together  ;  in  the  carver  s  mind 

Some  knot  of  bacchanals,  flushed  cheek  combined 

With  straining  forehead,  shoulders  purpled,  hair 

DiiBfused  between,  who  in  a  goat-skin  bear 

A  vintage  ;  graceful  sister-palms  :  but  quick 

To  the  main  wonder  now.     A  vault,  see ;  thick 

Black  shade  about  the  ceiling,  though  fine  slits 

Across  the  buttress  suffer  light  by  fits 

Upon  a  marvel  in  the  midst :  nay,  stoop — 

A  dullish  grey-streaked  cumbrous  font,  a  group 

Round  it,  each  side  of  it,  where'er  one  sees. 

Upholds  it — shrinking  Caryatides 

Of  just-tinged  marble  like  Eve's  lilied  flesh 

Beneath  her  Maker's  finger  when  the  fresh 

First  pulse  of  life  shot  brightening  the  snow  : 

The  font's  edge  burthens  every  shoulder,  so 

They  muse  upon  the  ground,  eyelids  half  closed. 

Some,  with  meek  arms  behind  their  backs  disposed. 

Some,  crossed  above  their  bosoms,  sdme,  to  veil 

Their  eyes,  some,  propping  chin  and  cheek  so  pale, 


I 


SORDELLO.  19 

Some,  hanging  slack  an  utter  helpless  length 

Dead  as  a  buried  vestal  whose  whole  strength 

Goes  when  the  grate  above  shuts  heavily  ; 

So  dwell  these  noiseless  girls,  patient  to  see. 

Like  priestesses  because  of  sin  impure 

Penanced  for  ever,  who  resigned  endure, 

Having  that  once  drunk  sweetness  to  the  dregs ; 

And  every  eve  Sordello's  visit  begs 

Pardon  for  them  :  constant  as  eve  he  came 

To  sit  beside  each  in  her  turn,  the  same 

As  one  of  them,  a  certain  space  :  and  awe 

Made  a  great  indistinctness  till  he  saw 

Sunset  slant  cheerful  through  the  buttress  chinks. 

Gold  seven  times  globed ;  surely  our  maiden  shrinks 

And  a  smile  stirs  her  as  if  one  faint  grain 

V 

Her  load  were  lightened,  one  shade  less  the  stain 
Obscured  her  forehead,  yet  one  more  bead  slipt 
From  off  the  rosary  whereby  the  crypt 
Keeps  count  of  the  contritions  of  its  charge  ? 
Then  with  a  step  more  light,  a  heart  more  large, 
He  may  depart,  leave  her  and  every  one 
To  linger  out  the  penance  in  mute  stone. 
Ah,  but  Sordello  ?  Tis  the  tale  I  mean 
To  tell  you.     In  this  castle  may  be  seen, 
c  2 


20  SORDELLO. 

On  the  hill  tops,  or  underneath  the  vines, 

Or  southward  by  the  mound  of  firs  and  pines 

That  shuts  out  Mantua,  still  in  loneliness, 

A  slender  boy  in  a  loose  page's  dress, 

Sordello  :  do  but  look  on  him  awhile 

Watching  ('tis  autumn)  with  an  earnest  smile 

The  noisy  flock  of  thievish  birds  at  work 

Among  the  yellowing  vineyards  ;  see  him  lurk 

('Tis  winter  with  its  sullenest  of  storms) 

Beside  that  arras-length  of  broidered  forms. 

On  tiptoe,  lifting  in  both  hands  a  light 

Which  makes  yon  warrior  s  visage  flutter  bright 

— Ecelo,  dismal  father  of  the  brood, 

And  Ecelin,  close  to  the  girl  he  wooed 

— Auria,  and  their  Child,  with  all  his  wives 

From  Agnes  to  the  Tuscan  that  survives. 

Lady  of  the  castle,  Adelaide  :  his  face 

— Look,  now  he  turns  away !   Yourselves  shall  trace 

(The  delicate  nostril  swerving  wide  and  fine, 

A  sharp  and  restless  lip,  so  well  combine 

With  that  calm  brow)  a  soul  fit  to  receive 

Delight  at  every  sense  ;  you  can  believe 

Sordello  foremost  in  the  regal  class 

Nature  has  broadly  severed  from  her  mass 


SORDELLO.  21 

Of  men  and  framed  for  pleasure  as  she  frames 

Some  happy  lands  that  have  luxurious  names 

For  loose  fertility  ;  a  footfall  there 

Suffices  to  upturn  to  the  warm  air 

Half-germinating  spices,  mere  decay 

Produces  richer  life,  and  day  by  day 

New  pollen  on  the  lily-petal  grows, 

And  still  more  labyrinthine  buds  the  rose. 

You  recognise  at  once  the  finer  dress 

Of  flesh  that  amply  lets  in  loveliness 

At  eye  and  ear,  while  round  the  rest  is  furled 

(As  though  she  would  not  trust  them  with  her  world) 

A  veil  that  shows  a  sky  not  near  so  blue, 

And  lets  but  half  the  sun  look  fervid  through  : 

How  can  such  love  like  souls  on  each  full-fraught 

Discovery  brooding,  blind  at  first  to  aught 

Beyond  its  beauty  ;  till  exceeding  love 

Becomes  an  aching  weight,  and  to  remove 

A  curse  that  haunts  such  natures — to  preclude 

Their  finding  out  themselves  can  work  no  good 

To  what  they  love  nor  make  it  very  blest 

By  their  endeavour,  they  are  fain  invest 

The  lifeless  thing  with  life  from  their  own  soul 

Availing  it  to  purpose,  to  control. 


22  SORDELLO. 

To  dwell  distinct  and  have  peculiar  joy 

And  separate  interests  that  may  employ 

That  beauty  fitly,  for  its  proper  sake ; 

Nor  rest  they  here :  fresh  births  of  beauty  wake 

Fresh  homage ;  every  grade  of  love  is  past, 

With  every  mode  of  loveliness ;  then  cast 

Inferior  idols  off  their  borrowed  crown 

Before  a  coming  glory :  up  and  down 

Runs  arrowy  fire,  while  earthly  forms  combine 

To  throb  the  secret  forth  ;  a  touch  divine— 

And  the  scaled  eyeball  owns  the  mystic  rod  : 

Visibly  through  his  garden  walketh  God. 

So  fare  they — Now  revert :  one  character 

Denotes  them  through  the  progress  and  the  stir ; 

A  need  to  blend  with  each  external  charm, 

Bury  themselves,  the  whole  heart  wide  and  warm. 

In  something  not  themselves  ;  they  would  belong 

To  what  they  worship — stronger  and  more  strong 

Thus  prodigally  fed — that  gathers  shape 

And  feature,  soon  imprisons  past  escape 

The  votary  framed  to  love  and  to  submit 

Nor  ask,  as  passionate  he  kneels  to  it, 

Whence  grew  the  idol's  empery.     So  runs 

A  legend ;  Light  had  birth  ere  moons  and  suns. 


SORDELLO.  23 

Flowing  through  space  a  river  and  alone, 

Till  chaos  burst  and  blank  the  spheres  were  strown 

Hither  and  thither,  foundering  and  blind. 

When  into  each  of  them  rushed  Light — to  find 

Itself  no  place,  foiled  of  its  radiant  chance. 

Let  such  forego  their  just  inheritance ! 

For  there's  a  class  that  eagerly  looks,  too. 

On  beauty,  but,  unlike  the  gentler  crew, 

Proclaims  each  new  revealment  bom  a  twin 

With  a  distinctest  consciousness  within 

Referring  still  the  quality,  now  first 

Revealed,  to  their  own  soul ;  its  instinct  nursed 

In  silence,  now  remembered  better,  shown 

More  thoroughly,  but  not  the  less  their  own ; 

A  dream  come  true ;  the  special  exercise 

Of  any  special  function  that  implies 

The  being  fair  or  good  or  wise  or  strong, 

Dormant  within  their  nature  all  along — 

Whose  fault  ?     So  homage  other  souls  direct 

Without,  turns  inward ;  how  should  this  deject 

Thee,  soul?  they  murmur;  wherefore  strength  be  quelled 

Because,  its  trivial  accidents  withheld. 

Organs  are  missed  that  clog  the  world,  inert, 

Wanting  a  will,  to  quicken  and  exert. 


24  SORDELLO. 

Like  thine — existence  cannot  satiate 
Cannot  surprise :  laugh  thou  at  envious  fate, 
"Who  from  earth's  simplest  combination  stampt 
With  individuality — uncrampt 
By  living  its  faint  elemental  life, 
Dost  soar  to  heaven  s  complexest  essence,  rife 
With  grandeurs,  unaffronted  to  the  last, 
Equal  to  being  all. 

In  truth  ?    Thou  hast 
Life,  then — wilt  challenge  life  for  us :  thy  race 
Is  vindicated  so,  obtains  its  place 
In  thy  ascent,  the  first  of  us ;  whom  we 
May  follow,  to  the  meanest,  finally. 
With  our  more  bounded  wills  ? 

Ah,  but  to  find 
A  certain  mood  enervate  such  a  mind. 
Counsel  it  slumber  in  the  solitude 
Thus  reached  nor,  stooping,  task  for  mankind's  good 
Its  nature  just  as  life  and  time  accord 
(Too  narrow  an  arena  to  reward 
Emprize — the  world's  occasion  worthless  since 
Not  absolutely  fitted  to  evince 
Its  mastery)  or  if  yet  worse  befall, 
And  a  desire  possess  it  to  put  all 


SORDELLO.  25 

That  nature  forth,  forcing  our  straitened  sphere 

Contain  it ;  to  display  completely  here 

The  mastery  another  life  should  learn, 

Thrusting  in  time  eternity's  concern. 

So  that  Sordello  .  .  .  Fool,  who  spied  the  mark 

Of  leprosy  upon  him,  violet  dark 

Already  as  he  loiters  ?     Born  just  now — 

With  the  new  century — beside  the  glow 

And  efflorescence  out  of  barbarism ; 

Witness  a  Greek  or  two  from  the  abysm 

That  stray  through  Florence-town  with  studious  air, 

Calming  the  chisel  of  that  Pisan  pair  .  .  . 

If  Nicolo  should  carve  a  Christus  yet ! 

While  at  Sienna  is  Guidone  set. 

Forehead  on  hand ;  a  painful  birth  must  be 

Matured  ere  San  Eufemio's  sacristy 

Or  transept  gather  fruits  of  one  great  gaze 

At  the  noon-sun  :  look  you  !    An  orange  haze — 

The  same  blue  stripe  round  that — and,  i'the  midst, 

Thy  spectral  whiteness,  mother-maid,  who  didst 

Pursue  the  dizzy  painter  ! 

Woe  then  worth 
Any  officious  babble  letting  forth 
The  leprosy  confirmed  and  ruinous 
To  spirit  lodged  in  a  contracted  house  ! 


26  SORDELLO. 

Go  back  to  the  beginning  rather ;  blend 

It  gently  with  Sordello's  life  ;  the  end 

Is  piteous,  you  shall  see,  but  much  between 

Pleasant  enough;  meantime  some  pyx  to  screen 

The  full-grown  pest,  some  lid  to  shut  upon 

The  goblin  !     As  they  found  at  Babylon, 

(Colleagues  mad  Lucius  and  sage  Antonine) 

Sacking  the  city,  by  Apollo's  shrine 

Its  pride,  in  rummaging  the  rarities, 

A  cabinet ;  be  sure,  who  made  the  prize 

Opened  it  greedily ;  and  out  there  curled 

Just  such  another  plague,  for  half  the  world 

Was  stung.     Crawl  in  then,  hag,  and  crouch  asquat, 

Keeping  that  blotchy  bosom  thick  in  spot 

Until  your  time  is  ripe  !     The  coffer-lid 

Is  fastened  and  the  coffer  safely  hid 

Under  the  Loxian  s  choicest  gifts  of  gold. 

Who  will  may  hear  Sordello*s  story  told, 

And  how  he  never  could  remember  when 

He  dwelt  not  at  Goito  ;  calmly  then 

About  this  secret  lodge  of  Adelaide's 

Glided  his  youth  away :  beyond  the  glades 

On  the  fir-forest's  border,  and  the  rim 

Of  the  low  range  of  mountain,  was  for  him 


SORDELLO.  27 

No  other  world  :  but  that  appeared  his  own 
To  wander  through  at  pleasure  and  alone. 
The  castle  too  seemed  empty ;  far  and  wide 
Might  he  disport  unless  the  northern  side 
Lay  under  a  mysterious  interdict — 
Slight,  just  enough  remembered  to  restrict 
His  roaming  to  the  corridors,  the  vault 
Where  those  font-bearers  expiate  their  fault. 
The  maple-chamber,  and  the  little  nooks 
And  nests  and  breezy  parapet  that  looks 
Over  the  woods  to  Mantua  ;  there  he  strolled. 
Some  foreign  women-servants,  very  old. 
Tended  and  crept  about  him — all  his  clue 
To  the  world's  business  and  embroiled  ado 
Distant  a  dozen  hill-tops  at  the  most. 
And  first  a  simple  sense  of  life  engrossed 
Sordello  in  his  drowsy  Paradise ; 
The  day's  adventures  for  the  day  suffice — 
Its  constant  tribute  of  perceptions  strange 
With  sleep  and  stir  in  healthy  interchange 
Suffice,  and  leave  him  for  the  next  at  ease 
Like  the  great  palmer- worm  that  strips  the  trees, 
Eats  the  life  out  of  every  luscious  plant. 
And  when  September  finds  them  sere  or  scant 


28  SORDELLO. 

Puts  forth  two  wondrous  winglets,  alters  quite, 

And  hies  him  after  unforeseen  delight ; 

So  fed  Sordello,  not  a  shard  disheathed ; 

As  ever  round  each  new  discovery  wreathed 

Luxuriantly  the  fancies  infantine 

His  admiration,  bent  on  making  fine 

Its  novel  friend  at  any  risk,  would  fling 

In  gay  profusion  forth  :  a  ficklest  king 

Confessed  those  minions !     Eager  to  dispense 

So  much  from  his  own  stock  of  thought  and  sense 

As  might  enable  each  to  stand  alone 

And  serve  him  for  a  fellow  ;  with  his  own 

Joining  the  qualities  that  just  before 

Had  graced  some  older  favourite  :  so  they  wore 

A  fluctuating  halo,  yesterday 

Set  flicker  and  to-morrow  filched  away ; 

Those  upland  objects  each  of  separate  name, 

Each  with  an  aspect  never  twice  the  same, 

"Waxing  and  waning  as  the  new-born  host 

Of  fancies,  like  a  single  night's  hoar-frost, 

Gave  to  familiar  things  a  face  grotesque ; 

Only,  preserving  through  the  mad  burlesque 

A  grave  regard :  conceive  ;  the  orpine  patch 

Blossoming  earliest  on  our  log-house-thatch 


SORDELLO.  29 

The  day  those  archers  wound  along  the  vmes — 

Related  to  the  Chief  that  left  their  lines 

To  climb  with  clinking  step  the  northern  stair 

Up  to  the  solitary  chambers  where 

Sordello  never  came.     Thus  thrall  reached  thrall ; 

He  o'er-festooning  every  interval 

As  the  adventurous  spider,  making  light 

Of  distance,  shoots  her  threads  from  depth  to  height. 

From  barbican  to  battlement ;  so  flung 

Fantasies  forth  and  in  their  centre  swung 

Our  architect :  the  breezy  morning  fresh 

Above,  and  merry ;  all  his  waving  mesh 

Laughing  with  lucid  dew-drops  rainbow-edged. 

This  world  of  ours  by  tacit  pact  is  pledged 

To  laying  such  a  spangled  fabric  low 

Whether  by  gradual  brush  or  gallant  blow  : 

But  its  abundant  will  was  balked  here  :  doubt 

Rose  tardily  in  one  so  fenced  about 

From  most  that  nurtures  judgment,  care  and  pain : 

Judgment,  that  dull  expedient  we  are  fain. 

Less  favoured,  to  adopt  betimes  and  force 

Stead  us,  diverted  from  our  natural  course 

Of  joys,  contrive  some  yet  amid  the  dearth. 

Vary  and  render  them,  it  may  be,  worth 


30  SORDELLO. 

Most  we  forego  :  suppose  Sordello  hence 

Selfish  enough,  without  a  moral  sense 

However  feeble  ;  what  informed  the  boy 

Others  desired  a  portion  in  his  joy  ? 

Or  say  a  ruthful  chance  broke  woof  and  warp — 

A  heron  s  nest  beat  down  by  March  winds  sharp, 

A  fawn  breathless  beneath  the  precipice, 

A  bird  with  unsoiled  breast  and  filmless  eyes 

Warm  in  the  brake—could  these  undo  the  trance 

Lapping  Sordello  ?     Not  a  circumstance 

That  makes  for  you,  friend  Naddo  !     Eat  fern- seed 

And  peer  beside  us  and  report  indeed 

If  (your  word)  Genius  dawned  with  throes  and  stings 

And  the  whole  fiery  catalogue,  while  springs 

Summers  and  winters  quietly  came  and  went. 

Putting  at  length  that  period  to  content 

By  right  the  world  should  have  imposed :  bereft 

Of  its  good  offices,  Sordello,  left 

To  study  his  companions,  managed  rip 

Their  fringe  off,  learn  the  true  relationship. 

Core  with  its  crust,  their  natures  with  his  own ; 

Amid  his  wild- wood  sights  he  lived  alone  : 

As  if  the  poppy  felt  with  him  !     Though  he 

Partook  the  poppy's  red  effrontery 


SORDELLO.  31 

Till  Autumn  spoils  their  fleering  quite  with  rain, 

And,  turbanless,  a  coarse  brown  rattling  crane 

Protrudes  :  that  *s  gone  !  yet  why  renounce,  for  that, 

His  disenchanted  tributaries — flat 

Perhaps,  but  scarce  so  utterly  forlorn 

Their  simple  presence  may  not  well  be  borne 

Whose  parley  was  a  transport  once :  recall 

The  poppy's  gifts,  it  flaunts  you,  after  all, 

A  poppy  :  why  distrust  the  evidence 

Of  each  soon  satisfied  and  healthy  sense  ? 

The  new-born  Judgment  answered  :  little  boots 

Beholding  other  creatures'  attributes 

And  having  none :  or  say  that  it  sufficed. 

Yet,  could  one  but  possess,  oneself,  (enticed 

Judgment)  some  special  office  !     Nought  beside 

Serves  you  ?     Well  then,  be  somehow  justified 

For  this  ignoble  wish  to  circumscribe 

And  concentrate,  rather  than  swell,  the  tribe 

Of  actual  pleasures  :  what  now  from  without 

Effects  it  ? — proves,  despite  a  lurking  doubt. 

Mere  sympathy  sufficient,  trouble  spared ; 

— He  tasted  joys  by  proxy,  clearly  fared 

The  better  for  them  ;  thus  much  craved  his  soul. 

Alas,  from  the  beginning  Love  is  whole 


32  BORDELLO. 

And  true  ;  if  sure  of  nought  beside,  most  sure 

Of  its  own  truth  at  least ;  nor  may  endure 

A  crowd  to  see  its  face,  that  cannot  know 

How  hot  the  pulses  throb  its  heart  below ; 

While  its  own  helplessness  and  utter  want 

Of  means  to  worthily  be  ministrant 

To  what  it  worships,  do  but  fan  the  more 

Its  flame,  exalt  the  idol  far  before 

Itself  as  it  would  ever  have  it  be  ; 

Souls  like  Sordello,  on  the  contrary, 

Coerced  and  put  to  shame,  retaining  Will, 

Care  little,  take  mysterious  comfort  still. 

But  look  forth  tremblingly  to  ascertain 

If  others  judge  their  claims  not  urged  in  vain 

— Will  say  for  them  their  stifled  thoughts  aloud  ; 

So  they  must  ever  live  before  a  crowd  : 

Vanity,  Naddo  tells  you. 

Whence  contrive 
A  crowd,  now  ?     These  brave  women  just  alive. 
That  archer-troop  ?  Forth  glided — not  alone 
Each  painted  warrior,  every  girl  of  stone, 
— Nor  Adelaide  bent  double  o'er  a  scroll. 
One  maiden  at  her  knees,  that  eve  his  soul 
Shook  as  he  stumbled  through  the  arras'd  glooms 
On  them,  for,  'mid  quaint  robes  and  weird  perfumes, 


BORDELLO.  33 

Started  the  meagre  Tuscan  up  (her  eyes 
The  maiden  s  also,  bluer  with  surprise) 
— But  the  entire  out- world  :  whatever  scraps 
And  snatches,  song  and  story,  dreams  perhaps. 
Conceited  the  world's  offices,  and  he 
Transferred  to  the  first  comer,  flower  or  tree. 
Nor  counted  a  befitting  heritage 
Each,  of  its  own  right,  singly  to  engage 
Some  Man,  no  other ;  such  availed  to  stand 
Alone  :  strength,  wisdom,  grace  on  every  hand 
Soon  disengaged  themselves  ;  and  he  discerned 
A  sort  of  human  life  :  at  least,  was  turned 
A  stream  of  life-like  figures  through  his  brain 
— Lord,  Liegeman,  Yalvassor  and  Suzerain, 
Ere  he  could  choose,  surrounded  him ;  a  stuff 
To  work  his  pleasure  on ;  there,  sure  enough. 
But  as  for  gazing,  what  shall  fix  that  gaze  ? 
Are  they  to  simply  testify  the  ways 
He  who  convoked  them  sends  his  soul  alono- 

o 

With  the  cloud's  thunder  or  a  dove's  brood-song  ? 
While  they  live  each  its  life,  boast  each  its  own 
Peculiar  dower  of  bliss,  stand  each  alone 
In  some  one  point  where  something  dearest  loved 
Is  easiest  gained — far  worthier  to  be  proved 

D 


34  SORDELLO. 

Than  aught  he  envies  in  the  forest- wights ! 

No  simple  and  self-evident  delights, 

But  mixed  desires  of  unimagined  range, 

Contrasts  or  combinations,  new  and  strange, 

Irksome  perhaps,  yet  plainly  recognised 

By  this,  the  sudden  company — loves  prized 

By  those  who  are  to  prize  his  own  amount 

Of  loves.     Once  care  because  such  make  account, 

Allow  a  foreign  recognition  stamp 

The  current  value,  and  your  crowd  shall  vamp 

You  counterfeits  enough  ;  and  so  their  print 

Be  on  the  piece,  'tis  gold,  attests  the  mint 

And  good,  pronounce  they  whom  my  new  appeal 

Is  made  to  :  if  their  casual  print  conceal — 

This  arbitrary  good  of  theirs  o'ergloss 

What  I  have  lived  without,  nor  felt  my  loss — 

Qualities  strange,  ungainly,  wearisome, 

— What  matter  ?  so  must  speech  expand  the  dumb 

Part  sigh,  part  smile  with  which  Sordello,  late 

No  foolish  woodland-sights  could  satiate, 

Betakes  himself  to  study  hungrily 

Just  what  the  puppets  his  crude  fantasy 

Supposes  notablest,  popes,  kings,  priests,  knights. 

May  please  to  promulgate  for  appetites ; 


SORDELLO.  35 

Accepting  all  their  artificial  joys 
Not  as  he  views  them,  but  as  he  employs 
Each  shape  to  estimate  the  other  s  stock 
Of  attributes,  that  on  a  marshalled  flock 
Of  authorised  enjoyments  he  may  spend 
Himself,  be  Men,  now,  as  he  used  to  blend 
With  tree  and  flower — nay  more  entirely,  else 
'Twere  mockery  :  for  instance,  how  excels 
My  life  that  Chieftain  s  ?  (who  apprised  the  youth 
'  Ecelin,  here,  becomes  this  month  in  truth, 
Imperial  Yicar?)  Turns  he  in  his  tent 
Remissly  ?     Be  it  so — my  head  is  bent 
Deliciously  amid  my  girls  to  sleep  : 
What  if  he  stalks  the  Trentine-pass  ?     Yon  steep 
I  climbed  an  hour  ago  with  little  toil — 

■  We  are  alike  there  :  but  can  I,  too,  foil 
The  Guelfs'  paid  stabber,  carelessly  afibrd 
St.  Mark's  a  spectacle,  the  sleight  o'  the  sword 
Baffling  their  project  in  a  moment  ?     Here 
No  rescue !     Poppy  he  is  none,  but  peer 
To  Ecelin,  assuredly  :  his  hand. 
Fashioned  no  otherwise,  should  wield  a  brand 
With  Ecelin  s  success — try,  now  !     He  soon 
Was  satisfied,  returned  as  to  the  moon 
D  2 


36  SORDELLO. 

From  earth  ;  left  each  abortive  boy's-attempt 
For  feats,  from  failure  happily  exempt, 
In  fancy  at  his  beck.     One  day  I  will 
Accomplish  it !     Are  they  not  older  still 
— Not  grown  up  men  and  women  ?  Tis  beside 
Only  a  dream  ;  and  though  I  must  abide 
With  dreams  now,  I  may  find  a  thorough  vent 
For  all  myself,  acquire  an  instrument 
For  acting  what  these  people  act ;  my  soul 
Hunting  a  body  out,  obtain  its  whole 
Desire  some  day  !     How  else  express  chagrin 
And  resignation,  show  the  hope  steal  in 
With  which  he  let  sink  from  an  aching  wrist 
The  rough-hewn  ash  bow,  and  a  gold  shaft  hiss'd 
Into  the  Syrian  air,  struck  Malek  down 
Superbly  !     Crosses  to  the  breach !     God's  Town 
Was  gained  Him  back  !  Why  bend  rough  ash-bows 
So  lives  he :  if  not  careless  as  before,  [more  ? 

Comforted  :  for  one  may  anticipate. 
Rehearse  the  future  ;  be  prepared  when  fate 
Shall  have  prepared  in  turn  real  men  w^hose  names 
Startle,  real  places  of  enormous  fames, 
Estes  abroad  and  Ecelins  at  home 
To  worship  him,  Mantuas,  Yeronas,  Rome 


SORDELLO.  37 

To  witness  it.    "Who  grudges  time  so  spent  ? 

Rather  test  qualities  to  heart's  content — 

Summon  them,  thrice  selected,  near  and  far — 

Compress  the  starriest  into  one  star 

So  grasp  the  whole  at  once  !    The  pageant 's  thinned 

Accordingly ;  from  rank  to  rank,  like  wind 

His  spirit  passed  to  winnow  and  divide ; 

Back  fell  the  simpler  phantasms  ;  every  side 

The  strong  clave  to  the  wise  ;  with  either  classed 

The  beauteous ;  so,  till  two  or  three  amassed 

Mankind's  beseemingnesses,  and  reduced 

Themselves  eventually,  graces  loosed. 

And  lavished  strengths,  to  heighten  up  One  Shape 

Whose  potency  no  creature  should  escape  : 

Can  it  be  Friedrich  of  the  bowmen  s  talk  ? 

Surely  that  grape-juice,  bubbling  at  the  stalk. 

Is  some  grey  scorching  Saracenic  wine 

The  Kaiser  quaffs  with  the  Miramoline — 

Those  swarthy  hazel- clusters,  seamed  and  chapped. 

Or  filberts  russet- sheathed  and  velvet-capped. 

Are  dates  plucked  from  the  bough  John  Brienne  sent 

To  keep  in  mind  his  sluggish  armament 

Of  Canaan  .  .  .  Friedrich's,  all  the  pomp  and  fierce 

Demeanour !    But  harsh  sounds  and  sights  transpierce 


38  SORDELLO. 

So  rarely  the  serene  cloud  where  he  dwells 

Whose  looks  enjoin,  whose  lightest  words  are  spells 

Upon  the  obdurate  ;  that  arm  indeed 

Has  thunder  for  its  slave ;  but  where's  the  need 

Of  thunder  if  the  stricken  multitude 

Hearkens,  arrested  in  its  angriest  mood, 

While  songs  go  up  exulting,  then  dispread, 

Dispart,  disperse,  lingering  overhead 

Like  an  escape  of  angels  ?     Tis  the  tune. 

Nor  much  unlike  the  words  the  women  croon 

Smilingly,  colourless  and  faint  designed 

Each  as  a  worn-out  queen  s  face  some  remind 

Of  her  extreme  youth's  love-tales.     Eglamor 

Made  that !     Half  minstrel  and  half  emperor, 

Who  but  ill  objects  vexed  him  ?     Such  he  slew. 

The  kinder  sort  were  easy  to  subdue 

By  those  ambrosial  glances,  dulcet  tones ; 

And  these  a  gracious  hand  advanced  to  thrones 

Beneath  him.     Wherefore  twist  and  torture  this^ 

Striving  to  name  afresh  the  antique  bliss. 

Instead  of  saying,  neither  less  nor  more. 

He  had  discovered,  as  our  world  before, 

Apollo  ?     That  shall  be  the  name  ;  nor  bid 

Me  rag  by  rag  expose  how  patchwork  hid 


SORDELLO.  39' 

The  man — what  thefts  of  every  clime  and  day- 
Contributed  to  purfle  the  array 
He  climbs  with  (June's  at  deep)  some  close  ravine 
'Mid  clatter  of  its  million  pebbles  sheen, 
Over  which  singing  soft  the  runnel  slipt 
Elate  with  rains  :  into  whose  streamlet  dipt 
He  foot,  yet  trod,  you  thought,  with  unwet  sock — 
Though  really  on  the  stubs  of  living  rock 
Ages  ago  it  crenneled  ;  vines  for  roof, 
Lindens  for  wall ;  before  him,  aye  aloof. 
Flittered  in  the  cool  some  azure  damsel-fly, 
Child  of  the  simmering  quiet,  there  to  die : 
Emerging  whence,  Apollo  still,  he  spied 
Mighty  descents  of  forest ;  multiplied 
Tuft  on  tuft,  here,  the  frolic  myrtle-trees  ; 
There  gendered  the  grave  maple-stocks  at  ease ; 
And,  proud  of  its  observer,  strait  the  wood 
Tried  old  surprises  on  him  ;  black  it  stood 
A  sudden  barrier  ('twas  a  cloud  passed  o'er) 
So  dead  and  dense  the  tiniest  brute  no  more 
Must  pass  ;  yet  presently  (the  cloud  despatched) 
Each  clump,  forsooth,  was  glistering  detached 
A  shrub,  oak-boles  shrunk  into  ilex-stems  ! 
Yet  could  not  he  denounce  the  stratagems 


40  SORDELLO. 

He  saw  thro',  till,  hours  thence,  aloft  would  hang 
White  summer-lightnings ;  as  it  sank  and  sprang 
In  measure,  that  whole  palpitating  breast 
Of  Heaven,  'twas  Apollo  nature  prest 
At  eve  to  worship. 

Time  stole :  by  degrees 
The  Pythons  perished  off ;  his  votaries 
Sunk  to  respectful  distance  ;  songs  redeem 
Their  pains,  but  briefer  ;  their  dismissals  seem 
Emphatic  ;  only  girls  are  very  slow 
To  disappear  :  his  Delians  !     Some  that  glow 
O'  the  instant,  more  with  earlier  loves  to  wrench 
Away,  reserves  to  quell,  disdains  to  quench ; 
Alike  in  one  material  circumstance — 
All  soon  or  late  adore  Apollo  !     Glance 
The  bevy  through,  divine  Apollo's  choice, 
A  Daphne !     We  secure  Count  Richard's  voice 
In  Este's  counsels,  one  for  Este's  ends 
As  our  Taurello,  say  his  faded  friends. 
By  granting  him  our  Palma  !     The  sole  child. 
They  mean,  of  Agnes  Este  who  beguiled 
Ecelin,  years  before  this  Adelaide 
Wedded  and  turned  hira  wicked  ;  but  the  maid 
Rejects  his  suit,  those  sleepy  women  boast. 
She,  scorning  all  beside,  deserves  the  most 


I 


SORDELLO.  41 

Sordello  :  so  conspicuous  in  his  world 

Of  dreams  sate  Palma.     How  the  tresses  curled 

Into  a  sumptuous  swell  of  gold  and  wound 

About  her  like  a  glory,  even  the  ground       |~breathe 

Was  bright  as  with  shed  sunbeams;    (breathe  not, 

Not) — poised,  see,  one  leg  doubled  underneath, 

Its  small  foot  buried  in  the  dimpling  snow, 

Rests,  but  the  other,  listlessly  below, 

O'er  the  couch-side  swings  feeling  for  cool  air, 

The  vein-streaks  swoln  a  richer  violet  where 

The  languid  blood  lies  heavily ;  and  calm 

On  her  slight  prop,  each  flat  and  outspread  palm, 

As  but  suspended  in  the  act  to  rise 

By  consciousness  of  beauty,  whence  her  eyes 

Turn  with  so  frank  a  triumph,  for  she  meets 

Apollo's  gaze  in  the  pine-glooms. 

Time  fleets 
That's  worst !     Because  the  pre-appointed  age 
Approaches.     Fate  is  tardy  with  the  stage 
She  all  but  promised.     Lean  he  grows  and  pale. 
Though  restlessly  at  rest.     Hardly  avail 
Fancies  to  soothe  him.     Time  steals,  yet  alone 
He  tarries  here  !     The  earnest  smile  is  gone. 
How  long  this  might  continue  matters  not  : 
For  ever,  possibly  ;  since  to  the  spot 


42  SORDELLO. 

None  come  :  for  lingering  Taurello  quits 
Mantua  at  last,  and  light  our  lady  flits 
Back  to  her  place  disburthened  of  a  care. 
Strange — to  be  constant  here  if  he  is  there  ! 
Is  it  distrust  ?     Oh,  never  !  for  they  both 
Goad  Ecelin  alike — Romano's  growth 
So  daily  manifest  that  Azzo  's  dumb 
And  Richard  wavers  ...  let  but  Friedrich  come  ! 
— Find  matter  for  the  minstrelsy's  report 
Lured  from  the  Isle  and  its  young  Kaiser  s  court 
To  sing  us  a  Messina  morning  up ; 
Who,  double  rillets  of  a  drinking  cup. 
Sparkle  along  to  ease  the  land  of  drouth. 
Northward  to  Provence  that,  and  thus  far  south 
The  other :  what  a  method  to  apprise 
Neighbours  of  births,  espousals,  obsequies  ! 
Which  in  their  very  tongue  the  Troubadour 
Records ;  and  his  performance  makes  a  tour. 
For  Trouveres  bear  the  miracle  about. 
Explain  its  cunning  to  the  vulgar  rout. 
Until  the  Formidable  House  is  famed 
Over  the  country — as  Taurello  aimed 
Who  introduced,  although  the  rest  adopt, 
The  novelty.     Their  games  her  absence  stopped 


SORDELLO.  43 

Begin  afresh  now  Adelaide,  recluse 
No  longer,  in  the  light  of  day  pursues 
Her  plans  at  Mantua — whence  an  accident 
That  breaking  on  Sordello's  mixed  content 
Opened,  like  any  flash  that  cures  the  blind,  ' 
The  veritable  business  of  mankind. 


BOOK  THE   SECOND. 


The  woods  were  long  austere  with  snow  :  at  last 
Pink  leaflets  budded  on  the  beech,  and  fast 
Larches,  scattered  through  pine-tree  solitudes, 
Brightened,  "  as  in  the  slumbrous  heart  o'  the  woods 
Our  buried  year,  a  witch,  grew  young  again 
To  placid  incantations,  and  that  stain 
About  were  from  her  caldron,  green  smoke  blent 
With  those  black  pines" — so  Eglamor  gave  vent 
To  a  chance  fancy :  whence  a  just  rebuke 
From  his  companion ;  brother  Naddo  shook 
The  solemnest  of  brows ;  Beware,  he  said. 
Of  setting  up  conceits  in  Nature's  stead  ! 
Forth  wandered  our  Sordello.     Nought  so  sure 
As  that  to-day's  adventure  will  secure 
Palma,  the  forest-lady — only  pass 
O'er  yon  damp  mound  and  its  exhausted  grass. 


SORDELLO.  45 

Under  that  brake  where  sundawn  feeds  the  stalks 

Of  withered  fern  with  gold,  into  those  walks 

Of  pine,  and  take  her !     Buoyantly  he  went. 

Again  his  stooping  forehead  was  besprent 

With  dew-drops  from  the  skirting  ferns.    Then  wide 

Opened  the  great  morass,  shot  every  side 

With  flashing  water  through  and  through  ;  a- shine, 

Thick  steaming,  all  alive.     Whose  shape  divine 

Quivered  i'  the  farthest  rainbow- vapour,  glanced 

Athwart  the  flying  herons  ?     He  advanced, 

But  warily ;  though  Mincio  leaped  no  more. 

Each  foot-fall  burst  up  in  the  marish-floor 

A  diamond  jet :  and  if  you  stopped  to  pick 

Rose-lichen,  or  molest  the  leeches  quick, 

And  circling  blood- worms,  minnow,  newt  or  loach, 

A  sudden  pond  would  silently  encroach 

This  way  and  that.     On  Palma  passed.     The  verge 

Of  a  new  wood  was  gained.     She  will  emerge 

Flushed,  now,  and  panting ;  crowds  to  see ;  will  own 

She  loves  him — Boniface  to  hear,  to  groan. 

To  leave  his  suit !     One  screen  of  pine  -trees  still 

Opposes  :  but — the  startling  spectacle — 

Mantua,  this  time  !     Under  the  walls — a  crowd 

Indeed — real  men  and  women — gay  and  loud 


46  BORDELLO. 

Round  a  pavilion.     How  he  stood ! 

In  truth 
No  prophecy  had  come  to  pass  :  his  youth 
In  its  prime  now — and  where  was  homage  poured 
Upon  Sordello  ? — born  to  be  adored, 
And  suddenly  discovered  weak,  scarce  made 
To  cope  with  any,  cast  into  the  shade 
By  this  and  this.     Yet  something  seemed  to  prick 
And  tingle  in  his  blood  ;  a  sleight — a  trick — 
And  much  would  be  explained.    It  went  for  naught — 
The  best  of  their  endowments  were  ill  bought 
With  his  identity  :  nay,  the  conceit 
This  present  roving  leads  to  Palma's  feet 
Was  not  so  vain  .  .  .  list!    The  word,  Palma?    Steal 
Aside,  and  die,  Sordello ;  this  is  real, 
And  this — abjure  ! 

What  next  ?     The  curtains,  see. 
Dividing !     She  is  there ;  and  presently 
He  will  be  there — the  proper  You,  at  length — 
In  your  own  cherished  dress  of  grace  and  strength  : 
Most  like  the  very  Boniface  .  .  . 

Not  so. 
It  was  a  showy  man  advanced ;  but  though 
A  glad  cry  welcomed  him,  then  every  sound 
Sank  and  the  crowd  disposed  themselves  around. 


SORDELLO.  47 

— This  is  not  he,  Sordello  felt ;  while  "  Place 

For  the  best  Troubadour  of  Boniface," 

Hollaed  the  Jongleurs,  "  Eglamor  whose  lay 

Concludes  his  patron  s  Court  of  Love  to-day." 

Obsequious  Naddo  strung  his  master  s  lute 

With  the  new  lute- string,  Elys,  named  to  suit 

The  song :  He  stealthily  at  watch,  the  while. 

Biting  his  lip  to  keep  down  a  great  smile 

Of  pride  :  then  up  he  struck.     Sordello's  brain 

Swam  :   for  he  knew  a  sometime  deed  aoain  ; 

So  could  supply  each  foolish  gap  and  chasm 

The  minstrel  left  in  his  enthusiasm. 

Mistaking  its  true  version — was  the  tale 

Not  of  Apollo  ?     Only,  what  avail 

Luring  her  down,  that  Elys  an  he  pleased. 

If  the  man  dares  no  further  ?     Has  he  ceased  ? 

And,  lo,  the  people's  frank  applause  half  done, 

Sordello  w^as  beside  him,  had  begun 

(Spite  of  indignant  twitchings  from  his  friend 

The  Trouvere)  the  true  lay  with  the  true  end. 

Taking  the  other  s  names  and  time  and  place 

For  his.     On  flew  the  song,  a  giddy  race, 

After  the  flying  story  ;  word  made  leap 

Out  word;  rhyme — rhyme;  the  lay  could  barely  keep 


48  SORDELLO. 

Pace  with  the  action  visibly  rushing  past : 
Both  ended.     Back  fell  Naddo  more  aghast 
Than  your  Egyptian  from  the  harassed  bull 
That  wheels  abrupt  and,  bellowing,  fronts  full 
His  plague,  who  spies  a  scarab  'neath  his  tongue, 
And  finds  'twas  Apis*  flank  his  hasty  prong 
Insulted.     But  the  people — but  the  cries. 
And  crowding  round,  and  proffering  the  prize  ! 
(For  he  had  gained  some  prize) — He  seemed  to  shrink 
Into  a  sleepy  cloud,  just  at  whose  brink 
One  sight  withheld  him  ;  there  sat  Adelaide, 
Silent ;  but  at  her  knees  the  very  maid 
Of  the  North  Chamber,  her  red  lips  as  rich, 
The  same  pure  fleecy  hair  ;  one  curl  of  which. 
Golden  and  great,  quite  touched  his  cheek  as  o'er 
She  leant,  speaking  some  six  words  and  no  more ; 
He  answered  something,  anything ;  and  she 
Unbound  a  scarf  and  laid  it  heavily 
Upon  him,  her  neck's  warmth  and  all;  again 
Moved  the  arrested  magic ;  in  his  brain 
Noises  grew,  and  a  light  that  turned  to  glare. 
And  greater  glare,  until  the  intense  flare 
Engulfed  him,  shut  the  whole  scene  from  his  sense. 
And  when  he  woke  'twas  many  a  furlong  thence, 


SORDELLO.  49 

At  home  :  the  sun  shining  his  ruddy  wont ; 

The  customary  birds'-chirp  ;  but  his  front     [^around 

Was  crowned — was  crowned  !      Her  scented  scarf 

His  neck !    Whose  gorgeous  vesture  heaps  the  ground  ? 

A  prize  ?     He  turned,  and  peeringly  on  him 

Brooded  the  women  faces,  kind  and  dim, 

Ready  to  talk.     The  Jongleurs  in  a  troop 

Had  brought  him  back,  Naddo  and  Squarcialupe 

And  Tagliafer ;  how  strange  !  a  childhood  spent 

Assuming,  well  for  him,  so  brave  a  bent ! 

Since  Eglamor,  they  heard,  was  dead  with  spite. 

And  Palma  chose  him  for  her  minstrel. 

Light 
Sordello  rose — to  think,  now  ;  hitherto 
He  had  perceived.     Sure  a  discovery  grew 
Out  of  it  all !     Best  live  from  first  to  last 
The  transport  o'er  again.     A  week  he  passed 
Sucking  the  sweet  out  of  each  circumstance. 
From  the  bard's  outbreak  to  the  luscious  trance 
Bounding  his  own  achievement.     Strange  !     A  man 
Recounted  that  adventure,  and  began 
Imperfectly ;  his  own  task  was  to  fill 
The  frame- work  up,  sing  well  what  he  sang  ill, 
Supply  the  necessary  points,  set  loose 
As  many  incidents  of  little  use 

E 


50  SORDELLO. 

— More  imbecile  the  other,  not  to  see 

Their  relative  importance  clear  as  he ! 

But  for  a  special  pleasure  in  the  act 

Of  singing — had  he  ever  turned,  in  fact, 

From  Elys,  to  sing  Elys  ? — from  each  fit 

Of  rapture,  to  contrive  a  song  of  it  ? 

True,  this  snatch  or  the  other  seemed  to  wind 

Into  a  treasure,  helped  himself  to  find 

A  beauty  in  himself;  for,  see,  he  soared 

By  means  of  that  mere  snatch  to  many  a  hoard 

Of  fancies ;  as  some  falling  cone  bears  oft 

The  eye,  along  the  fir-tree-spire,  aloft 

To  a  dove's  nest.     Then  how  divine  the  cause 

Such  a  performance  should  exact  applause 

From  men  if  they  have  fancies  too  ?     Can  Fate 

Decree  they  find  a  beauty  separate 

In  the  poor  snatch  itself  .  .  .  our  Elys,  there, 

("  Her  head  that's  sharp  and  perfect  like  a  pear, 

So  close  and  smooth  are  laid  the  few  fine  locks 

Coloured  like  honey  oozed  from  topmost  rocks 

Sun-blanched  the  livelong  summer") — if  they  heard 

Just  those  two  rhymes,  assented  at  my  word. 

And  loved  them  as  I  love  them  who  have  run 

These  fingers  through  those  fine  locks,  let  the  sun 


SORDELLO.  61 

Into  the  white  cool  skin  .  .  .  nay,  thus  I  clutch 
Those  locks  ! — I  needs  must  be  a  God  to  such. 
Or  if  some  few,  above  themselves,  and  yet 
Beneath  me,  like  their  Eglamor,  have  set 
An  impress  on  our  gift  ?     So  men  believe 
And  worship  what  they  know  not,  nor  receive 
Delight  from.     Have  they  fancies — slow,  perchance, 
Not  at  their  beck,  which  indistinctly  glance 
Until  by  song  each  floating  part  be  linked 
To  each,  and  all  grow  palpable,  distinct  ? 
He  pondered  this. 

Meanwhile  sounds  low  and  drear 
Stole  on  him,  and  a  noise  of  footsteps,  near 
And  nearer,  and  the  underwood  was  pushed 
Aside,  the  larches  grazed,  the  dead  leaves  crushed 
At  the  approach  of  men.     The  wind  seemed  laid ; 
Only,  the  trees  shrunk  slightly  and  a  shade 
Came  o'er  the  sky  although  'twas  midday  yet : 
You  saw  each  half-shut  downcast  violet 
Flutter  —a  Roman  bride,  when  they  dispart 
Her  unbound  tresses  with  the  Sabine  dart, 
Holding  that  famous  rape  in  memory  still, 
Felt  creep  into  her  curls  the  iron  chill. 
And  looked  thus,  Eglamor  would  say — indeed 
'Tis  Eglamor,  no  other,  these  precede 
E  2 


52  SORDELLO. 

Home  hither  in  the  woods.     Twere  surely  sweet 
Far  from  the  scene  of  one's  forlorn  defeat 
To  sleep  !  thought  Naddo,  who  in  person  led 
Jongleurs  and  Trouveres,  chanting  at  their  head, 
A  scanty  company  ;  for,  sooth  to  say, 
Our  beaten  Troubadour  had  seen  his  day  : 
Old  worshippers  were  something  shamed,  old  friends 
Nigh  weary ;  still  the  death  proposed  amends  : 
Let  us  but  get  them  safely  through  my  song 
And  home  again,  quoth  Naddo. 

All  along. 
This  man  (they  rest  the  bier  upon  the  sand) 
— This  calm  corpse  with  the  loose  flowers  in  its  hand, 
Eglamor,  lived  Bordello's  opposite : 
For  him  indeed  was  Naddo's  notion  right 
And  Verse  a  temple- worship  vague  and  vast, 
A  ceremony  that  withdrew  the  last 
Opposing  bolt,  looped  back  the  lingering  veil 
Which  hid  the  holy  place— should  one  so  frail 
Stand  there  without  such  effort  ?  or  repine 
That  much  was  blank,  uncertain  at  the  shrine 
He  knelt  before,  till,  soothed  by  many  a  rite. 
The  Power  responded,  and  some  sound  or  sight 
Grew  up,  his  own  forever  !  to  be  fixed 
In  rhyme,  the  beautiful,  forever ;  mixed 


SORDELLO.  53 

With  his  own  life,  unloosed  when  he  should  please, 

Having  it  safe  at  hand,  ready  to  ease 

All  pain,  remove  all  trouble ;  every  time 

He  loosed  that  fancy  from  its  bonds  of  rhyme. 

Like  Perseus  when  he  loosed  his  naked  love. 

Faltering  ;  so  distinct  and  far  above 

Himself,  these  fancies  !     He,  no  genius  rare, 

Transfiguring  in  fire  or  wave  or  air 

At  will,  but  a  poor  gnome  that,  cloistered  up. 

In  some  rock -chamber  with  his  agate  cup. 

His  topaz  rod,  his  seed-pearl,  in  these  few 

And  their  arrangement  finds  enough  to  do 

For  his  best  art.     Then,  how  he  loved  that  art ! 

The  calling  marking  him  a  man  apart 

From  men — one  not  to  care,  take  counsel  for 

Cold  hearts,  comfortless  faces  (Eglamor 

Was  neediest  of  his  tribe)  since  verse,  the  gift. 

Was  his,  and  men,  the  whole  of  them,  must  shift 

Without  it,  e'en  content  themselves  with  wealth 

And  pomp  and  power,  snatching  a  life  by  stealth. 

So  Eglamor  was  not  without  his  pride ! 

The  sorriest  bat  which  cowers  through  noontide 

While  other  birds  are  jocund,  has  one  time 

When  moon  and  stars  are  blinded,  and  the  prime 


54  SORDELLO. 

Of  earth  is  its  to  claim,  nor  find  a  peer ; 

And  Eglamor  was  noblest  poet  here, 

He  knew,  among  the  April  woods  he  cast 

Conceits  upon  in  plenty  as  he  past, 

That  Naddo  might  suppose  him  not  to  think 

Entirely  on  the  coming  triumph ;  wink 

At  the  one  weakness !     Twas  a  fervid  child 

That  song  of  his — no  brother  of  the  guild 

Had  e'er  conceived  its  like.     The  rest  you  know  ; 

The  exaltation  and  the  overthrow ; 

Our  poet  lost  his  purpose,  lost  his  rank. 

His  life — to  that  it  came.     Yet  envy  sank 

Within  him,  as  he  heard  Sordello  out. 

And,  for  the  first  time,  shouted — tried  to  shout 

Like  others,  not  from  any  zeal  to  show 

Pleasure  that  way  :  the  common  sort  did  so. 

And  what  was  Eglamor  ?  who,  bending  down 

The  same,  placed  his  beneath  Sordello's  crown, 

Printed  a  kiss  on  his  successor  s  hand, 

Left  one  great  tear  on  it,  then  joined  his  band 

— In  time ;  for  some  were  watching  at  the  door — 

Who  knows  what  envy  may  efi'ect  ?     Give  o'er. 

Nor  charm  his  lips,  nor  craze  him  !  (here  one  spied 

An,d  disengaged  the  withered  crown) — Beside 


SORDELLO.  55 

His  crown  !    How  prompt  and  clear  those  verses  rung 
To  answer  yours  !  nay  sing  them  !     And  he  sung 
Them  calmly.     Home  he  went ;  friends  used  to  wait 
His  coming,  anxious  to  congratulate. 
But,  to  a  man,  so  quickly  runs  report, 
Could  do  no  less  than  leave  him,  and  escort 
•His  rival.     That  eve,  then,  bred  many  a  thought 
What  must  his  future  life  be  :  was  he  brought 
So  low,  who  was  so  lofty  this  spring  morn  ? 
At  length  he  said.  Best  sleep  now  with  my  scorn. 
And  by  to-morrow  I  devise  some  plain 
Expedient !     So  he  slept,  nor  woke  again. 
They  found  as  much,  those  friends,  when  they  returned 
Overflowing  with  the  marvels  they  had  learned 
About  Sordello's  paradise,  his  roves 
Among  the  hills  and  valleys,  plains  and  groves, 
Wherein,  no  doubt,  this  lay  was  roughly  cast, 
Polished  by  slow  degrees,  completed  last 
To  Eglamor  s  discomfiture  and  death. 

Such  form  the  chanters  now,  and,  out  of  breath, 
They  lay  the  beaten  man  in  his  abode, 
Naddo  reciting  that  same  luckless  ode. 
Doleful  to  hear  :  Sordello  could  explore 
By  means  of  it,  however,  one  step  more 


56  SORDELLO. 

In  joy ;  and,  mastering  the  round  at  length, 
Learnt  how  to  live  in  weakness  as  in  strength, 
When  from  his  covert  forth  he  stood,  addressed 
Eglamor,  bade  the  tender  ferns  invest. 
Primeval  pines  o'ercanopy  his  couch. 
And,  most  of  all,  his  fame — (shall  I  avouch 
Eglamor  heard  it,  dead  though  he  might  look. 
And  laughed  as  from  his  brow  Sordello  took 
The  crown,  and  laid  it  on  his  breast,  and  said, 
It  was  a  crown,  now,  fit  for  poet's  head  ?) 
— Continue.     Nor  the  prayer  quite  fruitless  fell; 
A  plant  they  have  yielding  a  three-leaved  bell 
Which  whitens  at  the  heart  ere  noon,  and  ails 
Till  evening ;  evening  gives  it  to  her  gales 
To  clear  away  with  such  forgotten  things 
As  are  an  eyesore  to  the  morn  :  this  brings 
Him  to  their  mind,  and  bears  his  very  name. 

So  much  for  Eglamor.     My  own  month  came  ; 
Twas  a  sunrise  of  blossoming  and  May. 
Beneath  a  flowering  laurel  thicket  lay 
Sordello  ;  each  new  sprinkle  of  white  stars 
That  smell  fainter  of  wine  than  Massic  jars 
Dug  up  at  Baise,  when  the  south  wind  shed 
The  ripest,  made  him  happier ;  filleted 


SORDELLO.  57 

And  robed  the  same,  only  a  lute  beside 

Lay  on  the  turf.     Before  him  far  and  wide 

The  country  stretched  :  Goito  slept  behind 

— The  castle  and  its  covert  which  confined 

Him  with  his  hopes  and  fears  ;  so  fain  of  old 

To  leave  the  story  of  his  birth  untold. 

At  intervals,  'spite  the  fantastic  glow 

Of  his  Apollo-life,  a  certain  low 

And  wretched  whisper  winding  through  the  bliss 

Admonished,  no  such  fortune  could  be  his, 

All  was  quite  false  and  sure  to  fade  one  day : 

The  closelier  drew  he  round  him  his  array 

Of  brilliance  to  expel  the  truth.     But  when 

A  reason  for  his  difi*erence  from  men 

Surprised  him  at  the  grave,  he  took  no  rest 

While  aught  of  that  old  life,  superbly  drest 

Down  to  its  meanest  incident,  remained 

A  mystery — alas,  they  soon  explained 

Away  Apollo  !  and  the  tale  amounts 

To  this  :  when  at  Yicenza  both  her  Counts 

Banished  the  Yivaresi  kith  and  kin, 

Those  Maltraversi  hung  on  Ecelin, 

Reviling  as  he  followed  ;  he  for  spite 

Must  fire  their  quarter,  though  that  self-same  night 


58  SORDELLO, 

Among  the  flames  young  Ecelin  was  born 
Of  Adelaide,  there  too,  and  barely  torn 
From  the  roused  populace  hard  on  the  rear 
By  a  poor  archer  when  his  chieftain  s  fear 
Was  high  ;  into  the  tliick  Elcorte  leapt, 
Saved  her,  and  died  ;  no  creature  left  except 
His  child  to  thank.     And  when  the  full  escape 
Was  known — how  men  impaled  from  chine  to  nape 
Unlucky  Prata,  all  to  pieces  spurned 
Bishop  Pistore's  concubines,  and  burned 
Taurello's  entire  household,  flesh  and  fell. 
Missing  the  sweeter  prey — such  courage  well 
Might  claim  reward.     The  orphan,  ever  since, 
Sordello,  had  been  nurtured  by  his  prince 
Within  a  blind  retreat  where  Adelaide 
(For,  once  this  notable  discovery  made, 
The  past  at  every  point  was  understood) 
Can  harbour  easily  when  times  are  rude, 
When  Este  schemes  for  Palm  a — would  retrieve 
That  pledge,  when  Mantua  is  not  fit  to  leave 
Longer  unguarded  with  a  vigilant  eye, 
Taurello  bides  there  so  ambiguously 
(He  who  can  have  no  motive  now  to  moil 
For  his  own  fortunes  since  their  utter  spoil) 


SORDELLO.  59 

As  it  were  worth  while  yet  (goes  the  report) 

To  disengage  himself  from  us.     In  short, 

Apollo  vanished ;  a  mean  youth,  just  named 

His  lady's  minstrel,  was  to  be  proclaimed 

— How  shall  I  phrase  it  ?     Monarch  of  the  "World. 

But  on  the  morning  that  array  was  furled 

For  ever,  and  in  place  of  one  a  slave 

To  longings,  wild,  indeed,  but  longings  save 

In  dreams  as  wild,  suppressed — one  daring  not 

Assume  the  mastery  such  dreams  allot, 

Until  a  magical  equipment,  strength 

Grace,  wisdom,  decked  him  too, — he  chose  at  length 

(Content  with  unproved  wits  and  failing  frame) 

In  virtue  of  his  simple  "Will,  to  claim 

That  mastery,  no  less — to  do  his  best 

With  means  so  limited,  and  let  the  rest 

Go  by, — the  seal  was  set :  never  again 

Sordello  could  in  his  own  sight  remain 

One  of  the  many,  one  with  hopes  and  cares 

And  interests  nowise  distinct  from  theirs, 

Only  peculiar  in  a  thriveless  store 

Of  fancies,  which  were  fancies  and  no  more  ; 

Never  again  for  him  and  for  the  crowd 

A  common  law  was  challenged  and  allowed 


60  SORDELLO. 

If  calmly  reasoned  of,  however  denied 
By  a  mad  impulse  nothing  justified 
Short  of  Apollo's  presence  :  the  divorce 
Is  clear :  why  needs  Sordello  square  his  course 
By  any  known  example  ?     Men  no  more 
Compete  with  him  than  tree  and  flower  before ; 
Himself,  inactive,  yet  is  greater  far 
Than  such  as  act,  each  stooping  to  his  star, 
Acquiring  thence  his  function ;  he  has  gained 
The  same  result  with  meaner  mortals  trained 
To  strength  or  beauty,  moulded  to  express 
Each  the  idea  that  rules  him ;  since  no  less 
He  comprehends  that  function  but  can  still 
Embrace  the  others,  take  of  Might  his  fill 
With  Richard  as  of  Grace  with  Palma,  mix 
Their  qualities,  or  for  a  moment  ^x 
On  one,  abiding  free  meantime,  uncramped 
By  any  partial  organ,  never  stamped 
Strong,  so  to  Strength  turning  all  energies — 
Wise,  and  restricted  to  becoming  Wise — 
That  is,  he  loves  not,  nor  possesses  One 
Idea  that,  star-like  over,  lures  him  on 
To  its  exclusive  purpose.     Fortunate 
This  flesh  of  mine  ne'er  strove  to  emulate 


SORDELLO.  61 

A  soTil  SO  various — took  no  casual  mould 

Of  the  first  fancy  and  contracted,  cold 

Lay  clogged  forever  thence,  averse  to  change 

As  that.     Whereas  it  left  her  free  to  range, 

Remains  itself  a  blank,  cast  into  shade, 

Encumbers  little,  if  it  cannot  aid. 

So,  range,  my  soul !     Who  by  self-consciousness 

The  last  drop  of  all  beauty  dost  express — 

The  grace  of  seeing  grace,  a  quintessence 

For  thee  :  but  for  the  world,  that  can  dispense 

Wonder  on  men,  themselves  that  wonder — make 

A  shift  to  love  at  second  hand  and  take 

Those  for  its  idols  who  but  idolize. 

Themselves, — that  loves  the  soul  as  strong,  as  wise, 

Whose  love  is  Strength,  is  Wisdom, — such  shall  bow 

Surely  in  unexampled  worship  now, 

Discerning  me ! — 

(Dear  monarch,  I  beseech, 
Notice  how  lamentably  wide  a  breach 
Is  here  !  discovering  this,  discover  too 
What  our  poor  world  has  possibly  to  do 
With  it !     As  pigmy  natures  as  you  please — 
So  much  the  better  for  you  ;  take  your  ease  ; 
Look  on,  and  laugh  ;  style  yourself  God  alone  ; 
Strangle  some  day  with  a  cross  olive-stone ; 


62  SORDELLO. 

All  that  is  right  enough  :  but  why  want  us 

To  know  that  you  yourself  know  thus  and  thus  ? 

Nay  finish — ) 

— Bow  to  me  conceiving  all 
Man  s  life,  who  see  its  blisses,  great  and  small, 
Afar — not  tasting  any  :  no  machine 
To  exercise  my  utmost  will  is  mine, 
Therefore  mere  consciousness  for  me  ! — Perceive 
What  I  could  do,  a  mastery  believe, 
Asserted  and  established  to  the  throng 
By  their  selected  evidence  of  Song 
Which  now  shall  prove  whate'er  they  are,  or  seek 
To  be,  I  am — who  take  no  pains  to  speak, 
Change  no  old  standards  of  perfection,  vex 
With  no  strange  forms  created  to  perplex. 
But  mean  perform  their  bidding  and  no  more, 
At  their  own  satiating-point  give  o'er. 
And  each  shall  love  in  me  the  love  that  leads 
His  soul  to  its  perfection.     Song,  not  Deeds, 
(For  we  get  tired)  was  chosen.    Fate  would  brook 
Mankind  no  other  organ ;  He  would  look 
For  not  another  channel  to  dispense 
His  own  volition  and  receive  their  sense 
Of  its  existing,  but  would  be  content. 
Obstructed  else,  with  merely  verse  for  vent — 


SORDELLO.  63 

Nor  should,  for  instance,  Strength  an  outlet  seek 

And  striving  be  admired,  nor  Grace  bespeak 

"Wonder,  displayed  in  gracious  attitudes. 

Nor  Wisdom,  poured  forth,  change  unseemly  moods  ; 

But  he  would  give  and  take  on  Song's  one  point : 

Like  some  huge  throbbing-stone  that,  poised  a-joint, 

Sounds  to  affect  on  its  basaltic  bed 

Must  sue  in  just  one  accent :  tempests  shed 

Thunder,  and  raves  the  landstorm  :  only  let 

That  key  by  any  little  noise  be  set — 

The  far  benighted  hunter  s  halloo  pitch 

On  that,  the  hungry  curlew  chance  to  scritch 

Or  serpent  hiss  it,  rustling  through  the  rift, 

However  loud,  however  low — all  lift 

The  groaning  monster,  stricken  to  the  heart. 

Lo  ye,  the  world's  concernment,  for  its  part. 
And  this,  for  his,  will  hardly  interfere ! 
Its  businesses  in  blood  and  blaze  this  year 
— But  wile  the  hour  away — a  pastime  slight 
Till  he  shall  step  upon  the  platform  :  right ! 
And  now  thus  much  is  settled,  cast  in  rough. 
Proved  feasible,  be  counselled  !  thought  enough, 
Slumber,  Sordello  !  any  day  will  serve  : 
Were  it  a  less  digested  plan  !  'how  swerve 


64  SORDELLO. 

To-morrow  ?     Meanwhile  eat  these  sun-dried  grapes 
And  watch  the  soaring  hawk  there  !     Life  escapes 
Merrily  thus. 

He  thoroughly  read  o*er 
His  truchman  Naddo's  missive  six  times  more, 
Praying  him  visit  Mantua  and  supply 
A  famished  world. 

The  evening  star  was  high 
When  he  reached  Mantua,  but  his  fame  arrived 
Before  him  :  friends  applauded,  foes  connived, 
And  Naddo  looked  an  angel,  and  the  rest 
Angels,  and  all  these  angels  would  be  blest 
Supremely  by  a  song — the  thrice-renowned 
Goito  manufacture.     Then  he  found 
(Casting  about  to  satisfy  the  crowd) 
That  happy  vehicle,  so  late  allowed, 
A  sore  annoyance ;  'twas  the  song's  effect 
He  cared  for,  scarce  the  song  itself :  reflect ! 
In  the  past  life  what  might  be  singing's  use  ? 
Just  to  delight  his  Delians,  whose  profuse 
Praise,  not  the  toilsome  process  which  procured 
That  praise,  enticed  Apollo  :  dreams  abjured, 
No  over-leaping  means  for  ends — take  both 
For  granted  or  take  neither !     I  am  loth 


SORDELLO.  6i 

To  say  the  rhymes  at  last  were  Eglamor  s  ; 

But  Naddo,  chuckling,  bade  competitors 

Go  pine  ;  the  Master  certes  meant  to  waste 

No  effort,  cautiously  had  probed  the  taste 

He'd  please  anon :  true  bard,  in  short,  disturb 

His  title  if  they  could  ;  nor  spur  nor  curb. 

Fancy  nor  reason,  wanting  in  him  ;  whence 

The  staple  of  his  verses,  common  sense : 

He  built  on  Man  s  broad  nature — gift  of  gifts 

That  power  to  build !     The  world  contented  shifts 

With  counterfeits  enough,  a  dreary  sort 

Of  warriors,  statesmen,  ere  it  can  extort 

Its  poet-soul— that's,  after  all,  a  freak 

(The  having  eyes  to  see  and  tongue  to  speak) 

With  our  herd's  stupid  sterling  happiness 

So  plainly  incompatible  that — yes — 

Yes — should  a  son  of  his  improve  the  breed 

And  turn  out  poet  he  were  cursed  indeed. 

Well,  there's  Goito  to  retire  upon 

If  the  worst  happen ;  best  go  stoutly  on 

Now  !  thought  Sordello. 

Ay,  and  goes  on  yet ! 
You  pother  with  your  glossaries  to  get 
A  notion  of  the  Troubadour's  intent — 
His  Rondels,  Tenzons,  Yirlai  or  Sirvent — 
p 


6^;  SORDELLO. 

Much  as  you  study  arras  how  to  twirl 
His  Angelot,  plaything  of  page  and  girl, 
Once ;  but  you  surely  reach,  at  last, — or,  no  ! 
Never  quite  reach  what  struck  the  people  so. 
As  from  the  welter  of  their  time  he  drew 
Its  elements  successively  to  view", 
Followed  all  actions  backward  on  their  course 
And  catching  up,  unmingled  at  the  source. 
Such  a  Strength,  such  a  Weakness,  added  then 
A  touch  or  two,  and  turned  them  into  Men. 
Virtue  took  form,  nor  Vice  refused  a  shape ; 
Here  Heaven  opened,  there  was  Hell  agape, 
As  Saint  this  simpered  past  in  sanctity. 
Sinner  the  other  flared  portentous  by 
A  greedy  People :  then  why  stop,  surprised 
At  his  success  ?     The  scheme  was  realised 
Too  suddenly  in  one  respect :  a  crowd 
Praising,  eyes  quick  to  see,  and  lips  as  loud 
To  speak,  delicious  homage  to  receive, 
Bianca's  breath  to  feel  upon  his  sleeve 
Who  said,  "  But  Anafest — why  asks  he  less 
Than  Lucio,  in  your  verses  ?  how  confess 
It  seemed  too  much  but  yestereve  V*     The  youth 
Who  bade  him  earnestly  "  avow  the  truth, 


SORDELLO.  67 

You  love  Bianca,  surely,  from  your  song ; 
I  knew  I  was  unworthy  I"  soft  or  strong, 
In  poured  such  tributes  ere  he  had  arranged 
Etherial  ways  to  take  them,  sorted,  changed. 
Digested  :  courted  thus  at  unawares, 
In  spite  of  his  pretensions  and  his  cares 
He  caught  himself  shamefully  hankering 
After  your  obvious  petty  joys  that  spring 
From  real  life,  fain  relinquish  pedestal 
And  condescend  with  pleasures — one  and  all 
To  be  renounced,  no  doubt ;  for  thus  to  chain 
Himself  to  single  joys  and  so  refrain 
From  tasting  their  quintessence,  frustrates,  sure. 
His  prime  design ;  each  joy  must  he  abjure 
Even  for  love  of  it. 

He  laughed  :  what  sage 
But  perishes  if  from  his  magic  page 
He  look  because,  at  the  first  line,  a  proof 
*Twas  heard  salutes  him  from  the  cavern  roof  ? 
On  !    Give  thyself,  excluding  aught  beside. 
To  the  day's  task  ;  compel  thy  slave  provide 
Its  utmost  at  the  soonest ;  turn  the  leaf 
Thoroughly  conned ;  these  lays  of  thine,  in  brief— 
^'    Cannot  men  bear,  now,  somewhat  better? — fly 
A  pitch  beyond  this  unreal  pageantry 
p  2 


68  SORDELLO. 

Of  essences  ?  the  period  sure  has  ceased 
For  such  :  present  ns  with  ourselves,  at  least, 
Not  portions  of  ourselves,  mere  loves  and  hates 
Made  flesh  :  wait  not ! 

Awhile  the  poet  waits 
However.     The  first  trial  was  enough  : 
He  left  imagining,  to  try  the  stuff 
That  held  the  imaged  thing  and,  let  it  writhe 
Never  so  fiercely,  scarce  allowed  a  tithe 
To  reach  the  light — his  Language.     How  he  sought 
The  cause,  conceived  a  cure,  and  slow  re- wrought 
That  Language,  welding  words  into  the  crude 
Mass  from  the  new  speech  round  him,  till  a  rude 
Armour  was  hammered  out,  in  time  to  be 
Approved  beyond  the  Roman  panoply 
Melted  to  make  it,  boots  not.     This  obtained 
With  some  ado,  no  obstacle  remained 
To  using  it ;  accordingly  he  took 
An  action  with  its  actors,  quite  forsook 
Himself  to  live  in  each,  returned  anon 
With  the  result — a  creature,  and  by  one 
And  one  proceeded  leisurely  equip 
Its  limbs  in  harness  of  his  workmanship. 
Accomplished !     Listen  Mantuans  !     Fond  essay  ! 
Piece  after  piece  that  armour  broke  away 


BORDELLO.  69 

Because  perceptions  whole,  like  that  he  sought 

To  clothe^  reject  so  pure  a  work  of  thought 

As  language  :    Thought  may  take  Perception  s  place 

But  hardly  co -exist  in  any  case, 

Being  its  mere  presentment — of  the  Whole 

By  Parts,  the  Simultaneous  and  the  Sole 

By  the  Successive  and  the  Many.     Lacks 

The  crowd  perceptions  ?  painfully  it  tacks 

Together  thoughts  Sordello,  needing  such, 

Has  rent  perception  into  :  it  *s  to  clutch 

And  reconstruct — his  office  to  diffuse. 

Destroy  :  as  difficult  obtain  a  Muse 

In  short,  as  be  Apollo.     For  the  rest. 

E'en  if  some  wondrous  vehicle  exprest 

The  whole  dream,  what  impertinence  in  me 

So  to  express  it,  who  myself  can  be 

The  dream !  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  are  those, 

I  sing  to  over-likely  to  suppose 

A  higher  than  the  highest  I  present 

Now,  and  they  praise  already  :  be  content 

Both  parties,  rather  ;  they  with  the  old  verse. 

And  I  with  the  old  praise — far  go,  fare  worse  ! 

A  few  adhering  rivets  loosed,  upsprings 

The  angel,  sparkles  off  his  mail,  and  rings 


70  SORDELLO. 

Whirled  from  each  delicatest  limb  it  warps, 
As  might  Apollo  from  the  sudden  corpse 
Of  Hyacinth  have  cast  his  luckless  quoits. 
He  set  to  celebrating  the  exploits 
Of  Montfort  o'er  the  Mountaineers. 

Then  came 
The  world's  revenge  :  their  pleasure  now  his  aim 
Merely — what  was  it  ?     Not  to  play  the  fool 
So  much  as  learn  our  lesson  in  your  school, 
Replied  the  world  :  he  found  that  every  time 
He  gained  applause  by  any  given  rhyme 
His  auditory  recognised  no  jot 
As  he  intended,  and,  mistaking  not 
Him  for  his  meanest  hero,  ne'er  was  dunce 
Sufficient  to  believe  him — All  at  once. 
His  Will  .  .  .  conceive  it  caring  for  his  Will ! 
— Mantuans,  the  main  of  them,  admiring  still 
How  a  mere  singer,  ugly,  stunted,  weak, 
Had  Montfort  at  completely  (so  to  speak) 
His  lingers*  ends  ;  while  past  the  praise-tide  swept 
To  Montfort,  either  s  share  distinctly  kept. 
The  true  meed  for  true  merit — His  abates 
Into  a  sort  he  most  repudiates. 
And  on  them  angrily  he  turns.     Who  were 
The  Mantuans,  after  all,  that  he  should  care 


SORDELLO.  71 

About  their  recognition,  ay  or  no  ? 

In  spite  of  the  convention  months  ago, 

(Why  blink  the  truth)  was  not  he  forced  to  help 

This  same  ungrateful  audience,  every  whelp 

Of  Naddo's  litter,  make  them  pass  for  peers 

With  the  bright  band  of  those  Goito  years, 

As  erst  he  toiled  for  flower  or  tree  ?    Why  there 

Sate  Palma  !  Adelaide's  funereal  hair 

Ennobled  the  next  corner.     Ay,  he  strewed 

A  fairy  dust  upon  that  multitude 

Although  he  feigned  to  take  them  by  themselves ; 

His  giants  dignified  those  puny  elves. 

Sublimed  their  faint  applause.     In  short  he  found 

Himself  still  footing  a  delusive  round. 

Remote  as  ever  from  the  self- display 

He  meant  to  compass,  hampered  every  way 

By  what  he  hoped  assistance.     Wherefore  then 

Continue,  make  believe  to  find  in  men 

A  use  he  found  not  ? 

Weeks,  months,  years  went  by ; 
And,  lo,  Sordello  vanished  utterly. 
Sundered  in  twain;  each  spectral  part  at  strife 
With  each ;  one  jarred  against  another  life  ; 
The  Poet  thwarting  hopelessly  the  Man 
Who,  fooled  no  longer,  free  m  fancy  ran 


-  72  SORDELLO. 

Here,  there ;  let  slip  no  opportunities 

Forsooth,  as  pitiful  beside  the  prize 

To  drop  on  him  some  no-time  and  acquit 

His  constant  faith  (the  Poet-half  *s  to  wit) 

That  waiving  any  compromise  between 

No  joy  and  all  joy  kept  the  hunger  keen 

Beyond  most  methods — of  incurring  scoff 

From  the  Man-portion  not  to  be  put  off 

With  self-reflectings  by  the  Poet's  scheme     [^dream, 

Though  ne'er  so  bright ;  which  sauntered  forth  in 

Dress'd  any  how,  nor  waited  mystic  frames, 

Immeasurable  gifts,  astounding  claims. 

But  just  his  sorry  self ;  who  yet  might  be 

Sorrier  for  aught  he  in  reality 

Achieved,  so  pinioned  that  the  Poet-part, 

Fondling,  in  turn  of  fancy.  Verse ;  the  Art 

Developing  his  soul  a  thousand  ways ; 

Potent,  by  its  assistance,  to  amaze 

The  multitude  with  majesties,  convince 

Each  sort  of  nature  that  same  nature's  prince 

Accosted  it :  language,  the  makeshift,  grew 

Into  a  bravest  of  expedients,  too  ; 

Apollo,  seemed  it  now,  perverse  had  thrown 

Quiver  and  bow  away,  the  lyre  alone 


SORDELLO.  73 

Sufficed :  while,  out  of  dream,  his  day's  work  went 
To  tune  a  crazy  tenzon  or  sirvent — 
So  hampered  him  tlie  Man- part,  thrust  to  judge 
Between  the  bard  and  the  bard's  audience,  grudge 
A  minute's  toil  that  missed  its  due  reward ! 
But  the  complete  Sordello,  Man  and  Bard, 
John's  cloud-girt  angel,  this  foot  on  the  land, 
That  on  the  sea,  with  open  in  his  hand 
A  bitter-sweetling  of  a  book — was  gone. 

And  if  internal  struggles  to  be  one 
That  frittered  him  incessantly  piece-meal. 
Referred,  ne'er  so  obliquely,  to  the  real 
Mantuans  !  intruding  ever  with  some  call 
To  action  while  he  pondered,  once  for  all. 
Which  looked  the  easier  effort — to  pursue 
This  course,  still  leap  o'er  paltry  joys,  yearn  through 
The  present  ill-appreciated  stage 
Of  self-revealment  and  compel  the  age 
Know  him  ;  or  else,  forswearing  bard-craft,  wake 
From  out  his  lethargy  and  nobly  shake 
Off  timid  habits  of  denial,  mix 
With  men,  enjoy  like  men  :  ere  he  could  ^x 
On  aught,  in  rushed  the  Mantuans ;  much  they  cared 
For  his  perplexity  !     Thus  unprepared. 


74  SORDELLO. 

The  obvious  if  not  only  shelter  lay 
In  deeds  the  dull  conventions  of  his  day 
Prescribed  the  like  of  him  :  why  not  be  glad 
'Tis  settled  Palma's  minstrel,  good  or  bad, 
Submits  to  this  and  that  established  rule  ? 
Let  Yidal  change  or  any  other  fool 
His  murrey-coloured  robe  for  philamot 
And  crop  his  hair ;  so  skin-deep,  is  it  not, 
Such  vigour  ?     Then,  a  sorrow  to  the  heart. 
His  talk  !     Whatever  topics  they  might  start 
Had  to  be  groped  for  in  his  consciousness 
Strait,  and  as  strait  delivered  them  by  guess  : 
Only  obliged  to  ask  himself,  "  "What  was," 
A  speedy  answer  followed,  but,  alas. 
One  of  God's  large  ones,  tardy  to  condense 
Itself  into  a  period ;  answers  whence 
A  tangle  of  conclusions  must  be  stripped 
At  any  risk  ere,  trim  to  pattern  clipped. 
They  matched  rare  specimens  the  Mantua  flock 
Regaled  him  with,  each  talker  from  his  stock 
Of  sorted  o'er  opinions,  every  stage. 
Juicy  in  youth  or  desiccate  with  age, 
Fruits  like  the  fig-tree's,  rathe-ripe,  rotten-rich, 
Sweet-sour,  all  tastes  to  take  :  a  practice  which 


SORDELLO.  75 

He  too  had  not  impossibly  attained, 

Once  either  of  those  fancy-flights  restrained ; 

For,  at  conjecture  how  the  words  appear 

To  others,  playing  there  what  passes  here. 

And  occupied  abroad  by  what  he  spumed 

At  home,  'twas  slipt  the  occasion  he  returned 

To  seize  :  he'd  strike  that  lyre  adroitly — speech, 

Would  but  a  twenty  cubit  plectre  reach  ; 

A  clever  hand,  consummate  instrument. 

Were  both  brought  close  !  each  excellency  went 

For  nothing  else.     The  question  Naddo  asked 

Had  just  a  life-time  moderately  tasked 

To  answer,  Naddo's  fashion ;  more  disgust 

And  more  ;  why  move  his  soul,  since  move  it  must 

At  minutes'  notice  or  as  good  it  failed 

To  move  at  all  ?     The  end  was,  he  retailed 

Some  ready-made  opinion,  put  to  use 

This  quip,  that  maxim,  ventured  reproduce 

Gestures  and  tones — at  any  folly  caught 

Serving  to  finish  with,  nor  too  much  sought 

If  false  or  true  'twas  spoken  ;  praise  and  blame 

Of  what  he  said  grew  pretty  well  the  same 

— Meantime  awards  to  meantime  acts  :  his  soul, 

Unequal  to  the  compassing  a  Whole, 


'J^  SORDELLO. 

Saw  in  a  tenth  part  less  and  less  to  strive 
About.     And  as  for  Men  in  turn  .  .  .  contrive 
Who  could  to  take  eternal  interest 
In  them,  so  hate  the  worst,  so  love  the  best ! 
Though  in  pursuance  of  his  passive  plan 
He  hailed,  decried  the  proper  way. 

As  Man 
So  figured  he  ;  and  how  as  Poet  ?     Verse 
Came  only  not  to  a  stand- still.     The  worse, 
That  his  poor  piece  of  daily  work  to  do 
Was  not  sink  under  any  rivals  ;  who 
Loudly  and  long  enough,  without  these  qualms, 
Tuned,  from  Bocafoli's  stark -naked  psalms, 
To  Plara's  sonnets  spoilt  by  toying  with, 
"  As  knops  that  stud  some  almug  to  the  pith 
Pricked  for  gum,  wry  thence,  and  crinkled  worse 
Than  pursed-up  eyelids  of  a  river-horse 
Sunning  himself  o*  the  slime  when  whirrs  the  breese" 
Ha,  ha  !     Of  course  he  might  compete  with  these 
But— but— 

Observe  a  pompion-twine  afloat ; 
Pluck  me  one  cup  from  off  the  castle-moat — 
Along  with  cup  you  raise  leaf,  stalk  and  root, 
The  entire  surface  of  the  pool  to  boot. 


SORDELLO.  *!1 

So  could  I  pluck  a  cup,  put  in  one  song 

A  single  sight,  did  not  my  hand,  too  strong, 

Twitch  in  the  least  the  root-strings  of  the  whole. 

How  should  externals  satisfy  my  soul  ? 

Why  that's  precise  the  error  Squarcialupe 

(Hazarded  Naddo)  finds ;  the  man  can't  stoop 

To'  sing  us  out,  quoth  he,  a  mere  romance ; 

He'd  fain  do  better  than  the  best,  enhance 

The  subjects'  rarity,  work  problems  out 

Therewith  :  now  you're  a  bard,  a  bard  past  doubt, 

And  no  philosopher  ;  why  introduce 

Crotchets  like  these  ?  fine,  surely,  but  no  use 

In  poetry — which  still  must  be,  to  strike. 

Based  upon  common  sense  ;  there's  nothing  like 

Appealing  to  our  nature  !  what  beside 

Was  your  first  poetry  ?     No  tricks  w^ere  tried 

In  that,  no  hollow  thrills,  afi^ected  throes ! 

The  man,  said  we,  tells  his  own  joys  and  woes — 

We'll  trust  him.  Would  you  have  your  songs  endure  ? 

Build  on  the  human  heart  ! — Why  to  be  sure 

Yours  is  one  sort  of  heart — but  I  mean  theirs. 

Ours,  every  one's,  the  healthy  heart  one  cares 

To  build  on !     Central  peace,  mother  of  strength. 

That's  father  of  .  .  .  nay,  go  yourself  that  length. 


78  SORDELLO. 

Ask  those  calm -hearted  doers  what  they  do 

When  they  have  got  their  cahn  !     Nay,  is  it  true 

Fire  rankles  at  the  heart  of  every  glohe  ? 

Perhaps !     But  these  are  matters  one  may  probe 

Too  deeply  for  poetic  purposes  : 

Rather  select  a  theory  that  .  .  .  yes  [^midway 

Laugh  !    what   does  that  prove  ?  .  .  .  stations   you 

And  saves  some  little  o'er-refining.     Nay, 

That's  rank  injustice  done  me  !     I  restrict 

The  poet  ?     Don  t  I  hold  the  poet  picked 

Out  of  a  host  of  warriors,  statesmen — did 

I  tell  you  ?     Yery  like  !  as  well  you  hid 

That  sense  of  power  you  have  !     True  bards  believe 

Us  able  to  achieve  what  they  achieve — 

That  is,  just  nothing — in  one  point  abide 

Profounder  simpletons  than  all  beside  : 

Oh  ay  !     The  knowledge  that  you  are  a  bard 

Must  constitute  your  prime,  nay  sole,  reward  ! 

So  prattled  Naddo,  busiest  of  the  tribe 

Of  genius-haunters — how  shall  I  describe 

What  grubs  or  nips,  or  rubs,  or  rips — your  louse 

For  love,  your  flea  for  hate,  magnanimous, 

Malignant,  Pappacoda,  Tagliafer, 

Picking  a  sustenance  from  wear  and  tear 


SORDELLO.  79 

By  implements  it  sedulous  employs 

To  undertake,  lay  down,  mete  out,  o'er-toise 

Sordello  ?  fifty  creepers  to  elude 

At  once !     They  settled  stanchly  ;  shame  ensued  : 

Behold  the  monarch  of  mankind  succumb 

To  the  last  fool  who  turned  him  round  his  thumb, 

As  Naddo  styled  it !     Twas  not  worth  oppose 

The  matter  of  a  moment,  gainsay  those 

He  aimed  at  getting  rid  of;  better  think 

Their  thoughts  and  speak  their  speech,  secure  to  slink 

Back  expeditiously  to  his  safe  place. 

And  chew  the  cud — what  he  and  what  his  race 

Were  really,  each  of  them.     Yet  even  this 

Conformity  was  partial.     He  would  miss 

Some  point,  brought  into  contact  with  them  ere 

Assured  in  what  small  segment  of  the  sphere 

Of  his  existence  they  attended  him ; 

Whence  blunders — falsehoods  rectify — a  grim 

List — slur  it  over  !     How  ?     If  dreams  were  tried, 

His  will  swayed  sicklily  from  side  to  side 

Nor  merely  neutralized  his  waking  act 

But  tended  e'en  in  fancy  to  distract 

The  intermediate  will,  the  choice  of  means  : 

He  lost  the  art  of  dreaming  :  Mantua  scenes 


80  SORDELLO. 

Supplied  a  baron,  say,  he  sung  before, 

Handsomely  reckless,  full  to  running  o'er 

Of  gallantries  ;  abjure  the  soul,  content 

With  body,  therefore  !     Scarcely  had  he  bent 

Himself  in  dream  thus  low  when  matter  fast 

Cried  out,  he  found,  for  spirit  to  contrast 

And  task  it  duly ;  by  advances  slight. 

The  simple  stuff  becoming  composite. 

Count  Lori  grew  Apollo — best  recall 

His  fancy  !     Then  would  some  rough  peasant-Paul 

Like  those  old  Ecelin  confers  with,  glance 

His  gay  apparel  o'er  ;  that  countenance 

Gathered  his  shattered  fancy  into  one, 

And,  body  clean  abolished,  soul  alone 

Sufficed  the  grey  Paulician  :  by  and  by 

To  balance  the  ethereality 

Passions  were  needed  ;  foiled  he  sunk  again. 

Meanwhile  the  world  rejoiced  ('tis  time  explain) 
Because  a  sudden  sickness  set  it  free 
From  Adelaide.     Missins  the  mother  bee 
Her  mountain  hive  Romano  swarmed ;  at  once 
A  rustle-forth  of  daughters  and  of  sons 
Blackened  the  valley.     I  am  sick  too,  old. 
Half  crazed  I  think  ;   what  good  's  the  Kaiser  s  gold 


SORDELLO.  81 

To  such  an  one  ?     God  help  me  !  for  I  catch 

My  children's  greedy  sparkling  eyes  at  watch — 

He  bears  that  double  breastplate  on,  they  say, 

So  many  minutes  less  than  yesterday  1 

Beside  Monk  Hilary  is  on  his  knees 

Now,  sworn  to  kneel  and  pray  till  God  shall  please 

Exact  a  punishment  for  many  things 

You  know  and  some  you  never  knew  ;  which  brings 

To  memory,  Azzo's  sister  Beatrix 

And  Richard's  Giglia  are  my  Alberic's 

And  Ecelin  s  betrothed ;  the  Count  himself 

Must  get  my  Palma :  Ghibellin  and  Guelf 

Mean  to  embrace  each  other.     So  began 

Romano's  missive  to  his  fighting-man 

Taurello  on  the  Tuscan  s  death,  away 

"With  Friedrich  sworn  to  sail  from  Naples'  bay 

Next  month  for  Syria.     Never  thunder-clap 

Out  of  Vesuvius'  mount  like  this  mishap 

Startled  him.     That  accursed  Yicenza  !  I 

Absent,  and  she  selects  this  time  to  die  ! 

Ho,  fellows,  for  Yicenza  !     Half  a  score 

Of  horses  ridden  dead  he  stood  before 

Romano  in  his  reeking  spurs  :  too  late — 

Boniface  urged  me,  Este  could  not  wait, 

G 


82  BORDELLO. 

The  chieftain  stammered ;  let  me  die  in  peace — 

Forget  me  !     Was  it  I  e'er  craved  increase 

Of  rule  ?     Do  you  and  Friedrich  plot  your  worst 

Against  the  Father :  as  you  found  me  first 

So  leave  me  now.     Forgive  me !  Palraa,  sure, 

Is  at  Goito  still.     Retain  that  lure — 

Only  be  pacified  ! 

The  country  rung 
With  such  a  piece  of  news  :  on  every  tongue 
How  Ecelin  s  great  servant,  congeed  ofi*, 
Had  done  a  long  day's  service,  so  might  doff 
The  green  and  yellow  to  recover  breath 
At  Mantua,  whither,  since  Retrude's  death, 
(The  girlish  slip  of  a  Sicilian  bride 
From  Otho's  House  he  carried  to  reside 
At  Mantua  till  the  Ferrarese  should  pile 
A  structure  worthy  her  imperial  style. 
The  gardens  raise,  their  tenantry  enshrine 
She  never  lived  to  see)  although  his  line 
Was  ancient  in  her  archives  and  she  took 
A  pride  in  him,  that  city,  nor  forsook 
Her  child  though  he  forsook  himself  and  spent 
A  prowess  on  Romano  surely  meant 
For  his  own  purposes — he  ne'er  resorts 
If  wholly  satisfied  (to  trust  reports) 


SORDELLO.  83 

With  Ecelin.     So  forward  in  a  trice 

Were  shows  to  greet  him.     Take  a  friend's  advice, 

Quoth  Naddo  to  Sordello,  nor  be  rash 

Because  your  rivals  (nothing  can  abash 

Some  folks)  demur  that  we  pronounced  you  best 

To  sound  the  great  man  s  welcome ;  *tis  a  test 

Remember ;  Strojavacca  looks  asquint, 

The  rough  fat  sloven  ;  and  there's  plenty  hint 

Your  pinions  have  received  of  late  a  shock — 

Out-soar  them,  cobs  wan  of  the  silver  flock  ! 

Sing  well !     A  signal  wonder  song's  no  whit 

Facilitated. 

Fast  the  minutes  flit ; 
Another  day,  Sordello  finds,  will  bring 
The  soldier,  and  he  cannot  choose  but  sing ; 
So  quits,  a  last  shift,  Mantua — slow,  alone : 
Out  of  that  aching  brain,  a  very  stone, 
Song  must  be  struck.     What  occupies  that  front  ? 
Just  how  he  was  more  awkward  than  his  wont 
The  night  before,  when  Naddo,  who  had  seen 
Taurello  on  his  progress,  praised  the  mien 
For  dignity  no  crosses  could  afi*ect — 
Such  was  a  joy,  and  might  not  he  detect 
A  satisfaction  if  established  joys 
Were  proved  imposture  ?     Poetry  annoys 
G  2 


84  SORDELLO. 

Its  utmost :  wherefore  fret  ?     Verses  may  come 

Or  keep  away  !     And  thus  he  wandered,  dumb 

Till  evening,  when  he  paused,  thoroughly  spent, 

On  a  blind  hill-top  ;  down  the  gorge  he  went, 

Yielding  himself  up  as  to  an  embrace  ; 

The  moon  came  out ;  like  features  of  a  face 

A  querulous  fraternity  of  pines. 

Sad  blackthorn  clumps,  leafless  and  grovelling  vines 

Also  came  out,  made  gradually  up 

The  picture  ;  'twas  Goito's  mountain-cup 

And  castle.     He  had  dropped  through  one  defile 

He  never  dared  explore,  the  Chief  erewhile 

Had  vanished  by.    Back  rushed  the  dream,  en  wrapt 

Him  wholly.     'Twas  Apollo  now  they  lapped 

Those  mountains,  not  a  pettish  minstrel  meant 

To  wear  his  soul  away  in  discontent 

Brooding  on  fortune's  malice  ;  heart  and  brain 

Swelled  ;  he  expanded  to  himself  again 

As  that  thin  seedling  spice-tree  starved  and  frail 

Pushina:  between  cat's  head  or  ibis'  tail 

Crusted  into  the  porphyry  pavement  smooth 

— Suffered  remain  just  as  it  sprung  to  soothe 

The  Soldan  s  pining  daughter,  never  yet 

AYell  in  the  chilly  green-glazed  minaret — 


SORDELLO.  85 

When  rooted  up  the  sunny  day  she  died 
And  flung  into  the  common  court  beside 
Its  parent  tree.     Come  home,  Sordello  !     Soon 
Was  he  low  muttering  beneath  the  moon 
Of  sorrow  saved,  of  quiet  evermore, 
How  from  his  purposes  maintained  before 
Only  resulted  wailing  and  hot  tears. 
Ah,  the  slim  castle  !  dwindled  of  late  years. 
But  more  mysterious ;  gone  to  ruin — trails 
Of  vine  thro'  every  loop-hole.     Nought  avails 
The  night  as,  torch  in  hand,  he  must  explore 
The  maple  chamber — did  I  say  its  floor 
Was  made  of  intersecting  cedar  beams  ? 
Worn  now  with  gaps  so  large  there  blew  cold  streams 
Of  air  quite  from  the  dungeon ;  lay  your  ear 
Close  and  'tis  like,  one  after  one,  you  hear 
In  the  blind  darkness  water-drops.     The  nests 
And  nooks  retained  their  long  ranged  vesture-chests 
Empty  and  smelling  of  the  iris-root 
The  Tuscan  grated  o'er  them  to  recruit 
Her  wasted  wits.     Palma  was  gone  that  day. 
Said  the  remaining  women.     Last,  he  lay 
Beside  the  Carian  group  reserved  and  still. 
The  Body,  the  Machine  for  Acting  Will 


86  SORDELLO. 

Had  been  at  the  commencement  proved  unfit ; 
That  for  Reflecting,  Demonstrating  it, 
Mankind — no  fitter  :  was  the  Will  Itself 
In  fault  ? 

His  forehead  pressed  the  moonlit  shelf 
Beside  the  youngest  marble  maid  awhile  ; 
Then,  raising  it,  he  thought,  with  a  long  smile, 
I  shall  be  king  again !  as  he  withdrew 
The  envied  scarf ;  into  the  font  he  threw 
His  crown. 

Next  day,  no  poet !     Wherefore  ?  asked 
Taurello,  when  the  dance  of  Jongleurs  masked 
As  devils  ended ;  don  t  a  song  come  next  ? 
The  master  of  the  pageant  looked  perplext 
Till  Naddo's  whisper  came  to  his  relief ; 
His  Highness  knew  what  poets  were :  in  brief, 
Had  not  the  tetchy  race  prescriptive  right 
To  peevishness,  caprice  ?  or,  call  it  spite. 
One  must  receive  their  nature  in  its  length 
And  breadth,  expect  the  weakness  with  the  strength ! 
So  phrasing,  till,  his  stock  of  phrases  spent, 
The  easy-natured  soldier  smiled  assent. 
Settled  his  portly  person,  smoothed  his  chin. 
And  nodded  that  the  bull-chase  might  begin. 


SORDELLO.  S7 


BOOK  THE  THIRD. 


And  the  font  took  them  :  let  our  laurels  lie  ! 
Braid  moonfem  now  with  mystic  trifoly 
Because  once  more  Goito  gets,  once  more, 
Sordello  to  itself !  A  dream  is  o'er 
And  the  suspended  life  begins  anew ; 
Quiet  those  throbbing  temples,  then,  subdue 
That  cheek's  distortion !     Nature's  strict  embrace, 
Putting  aside  the  past,  shall  soon  efface 
Its  print  as  well — factitious  humours  grown 
Over  the  true — loves,  hatreds  not  his  own — 
And  turn  him  pure  as  some  forgotten  vest 
"Woven  of  painted  byssus,  silkiest 
Tufting  the  Tyrrhene  whelk's  pearl-sheeted  lip. 
Left  welter  where  a  trireme  let  it  slip 
I'  the  sea  and  vexed  a  Satrap  ;  so  the  stain 
C  the  world  forsakes  Sordello  with  its  pain 


88  SORDELLO. 

Its  pleasure :  how  the  tinct  loosening  escapes 

Cloud  after  cloud !     Mantua's  familiar  shapes 

Die,  fair  and  foul  die,  fading  as  they  flit, 

Men,  women,  and  the  pathos  and  the  wit. 

Wise  speech  and  foolish,  deeds  to  smile  or  sigh 

For,  good,  bad,  seemly  or  ignoble,  die  : 

The  last  face  glances  through  the  eglantines. 

The  last  voice  murmurs  'twixt  the  blossomed  vines 

This  May  of  the  Machine  supplied  by  Thought 

To  compass  Self-perception  idly  sought 

By  forcing  half  himself — an  insane  pulse 

Of  a  God's  blood  on  clay  it  could  convulse 

Never  transmute — on  human  sights  and  sounds 

To  watch  the  other  half  with  ;  irksome  bounds 

It  ebbs  from  to  its  source,  a  fountain  sealed 

Forever.     Better  sure  be  unrevealed 

Than  part-revealed  :  Sordello  well  or  ill 

Is  finished  with  :  what  further  use  of  Will  ? 

— Point  in  the  prime  idea  not  realized, 

An  oversight,  inordinately  prized 

No  less,  and  pampered  with  enough  of  each 

Delight  to  prove  the  whole  above  its  reach. 

To  need  become  all  natures  yet  retain 

The  law  of  one's  own  nature — to  remain 


SORDELLO.  89 

Oneself,  yet  yearn  .  .  .  aha,  that  chesnut,  think. 
To  yearn  for  this  first  larch-bloom  crisp  and  pink. 
With  those  pale  fragrant  tears  where  zephyrs  staunch 
March  wounds  along  the  fretted  pine-tree  branch  ! 
Will  and  the  means  to  show  it,  great  and  small 
Material,  spiritual,  abjure  them  all 
Save  any  so  distinct  as  to  be  left 
Amuse,  not  tempt  become :  and,  thus  bereft, 
Say,  just  as  I  am  fashioned  would  I  be  ! 
Nor,  Moon,  is  it  Apollo  now  but  me 
Thou  visitest  to  comfort  and  befriend  ; 
Swim  thou  into  my  heart  and  there  an  end 
Since  I  possess  thee !  nay  thus  shut  mine  eyes 
And  know,  quite  know,  by  that  heart's  fall  and  rise 
If  thou  dost  bury  thee  in  clouds  and  when 
Out-standest :  wherefore  practise  upon  Men 
To  make  that  plainer  to  myself  ? 

Slide  here 
Over  a  sweet  and  solitary  year 
Wasted :  or  simply  notice  change  in  him — 
How  eyes,  bright  with  exploring  once,  grew  dim 
As  satiate  with  receiving.     Some  distress 
Occasioned,  too,  a  sort  of  consciousness 
Under  the  imbecility  ;  nought  kept 
That  down  :  he  slept,  but  was  aware  he  slept 


90  SORDELLO. 

And  frustrate  so ;  as  who  brainsick  made  pact 

Erst  with  the  overhanging  cataract 

To  deafen  him,  yet  may  distinguish  now 

His  own  blood's  measured  clicking  at  his  brow. 

To  finish.     One  declining  Autumn  day — 
Few  birds  about  the  heaven  chill  and  grey, 
No  wind  that  cared  trouble  the  tacit  woods — 
He  sauntered  home  complacently,  their  moods 
According,  his  and  Nature's.     Every  spark 
Of  Mantua  life  was  trodden  out ;  so  dark 
The  embers  that  the  Troubadour  who  sung 
Hundreds  of  songs  forgot,  its  trick  the  tongue, 
Its  craft  the  brain,  how  either  brought  to  pass 
Singing  so  e'er  ;  that  faculty  might  class 
With  any  of  Apollo's  now.     The  year 
Began  to  find  its  early  promise  sere 
As  well.     Thus  beauty  vanishes !     Your  stone 
Outlasts  your  flesh.     Nature's  and  his  youth  gone, 
They  left  the  world  to  you  and  wished  you  joy. 
When  stopping  his  benevolent  employ 
A  presage  shuddered  through  the  welkin  ;  harsh 
The  earth's  remonstrance  followed.    'Twas  the  marsh 
Gone  of  a  sudden.     Mincio  in  its  place 
Laughed  a  broad  water  in  next  morning's  face 


SORDELLO.  91 

And,  where  the  mists  broke  up  immense  and  white 
I'  the  steady  wind,  burnt  like  a  spilth  of  light 
Out  of  the  crashing  of  a  myriad  stars. 
And  here  was  Nature,  bound  by  the  same  bars 
Of  fate  with  him  ! 

No  :  youth  once  gone  is  gone : 
Deeds  let  escape  are  never  to  be  done  : 
Leaf-fall  and  grass-spring  for  the  year,  but  us — 
Oh  forfeit  I  unalterably  thus 
My  chance  ?  nor  two  lives  wait  me,  this  to  spend 
Learning  save  that  ?  Nature  has  leisure  mend 
Mistake,  occasion,  knows  she,  will  recur — 
Landslip  or  seabreach  how  affects  it  her 
With  her  magnificent  resources  ?     I 
Must  perish  once  and  perish  utterly  ! 
Not  any  strollings  now  at  even- close 
Down  the  field-path,  Sordello,  by  thorn-rows 
Alive  with  lamp-flies,  swimming  spots  of  fire 
And  dew,  outlining  the  black  cypress'  spire 
She  waits  you  at,  Elys,  who  heard  you  first 
Woo  her  the  snow-month — ah,  but  ere  she  durst 
Answer  'twas  April !  Linden-flower- time-long 
Her  eyes  were  on  the  ground ;  'tis  July,  strong 
Now  ;  and  because  white  dust-clouds  overwhelm 
The  woodside,  here  or  by  the  village  elm 


92  BORDELLO. 

That  holds  the  moon  she  meets  you,  somewhat  pale, 

But  letting  you  lift  up  her  coarse  flax  veil 

And  whisper  (the  damp  little  hand  in  yours) 

Of  love — heart's  love — your  heart's  love  that  endures 

Till  death.    Tush  !    No  mad  mixing  with  the  rout 

Of  haggard  ribalds  wandering  about 

The  hot  torchlit  wine -scented  island-house 

Where  Friedrich  holds  his  wickedest  carouse 

Parading  to  the  gay  Palermitans, 

Soft  Messinese,  dusk  Saracenic  clans 

From  Nuocera,  those  tall  grave  dazzling  Norse, 

Clear-cheeked,  lank-haired,  toothed  whiter  than  the 

Queens  of  the  caves  of  jet  stalactites  Qmorse, 

He  sent  his  barks  to  fetch  through  icy  seas. 

The  blind  night  seas  without  a  saving-star. 

And  here  in  snowy  birdskin  robes  they  are, 

Sordello,  here,  mollitious  alcoves  gilt 

Superb  as  Byzant-domes  the  devils  built 

— Ah,  Byzant,  there  again  !  no  chance  to  go 

Ever  like  august  pleasant  Dandolo, 

Worshipping  hearts  about  him  for  a  wall, 

Conducted,  blind  eyes,  hundred  years  and  all. 

Through  vanquished  Byzant  to  have  noted  him 

What  pillar,  marble  massive,  sardius  slim. 


SORDELLO.  93 

Twere  fittest  we  transport  to  Venice*  Square — 

Flattered  and  promised  life  to  touch  them  there 

Soon,  by  his  fervid  sons  of  senators  ! 

No  more  lifes,  deaths,  loves,  hatreds,  peaces,  wars — 

Ah,  fragments  of  a  Whole  ordained  to  be  ! 

Points  in  the  life  I  waited  !  what  are  ye 

But  roundels  of  a  ladder  which  appeared 

Awhile  the  very  platform  it  was  reared 

To  lift  me  on — that  Happiness  I  find 

Proofs  of  my  faith  in,  even  in  the  blind 

Instinct  which  bade  forego  you  all  unless 

Ye  led  me  past  yourselves  ?     Ay,  Happiness 

Awaited  me  ;  the  way  life  should  be  used 

Was  to  acquire,  and  deeds  like  you  conduced 

To  teach  it  by  a  self-revealment  (deemed 

That  very  use  too  long).     Whatever  seemed 

Progress  to  that  was  Pleasure  ;  aught  that  stayed 

Me  reaching  it — No  Pleasure.     I  have  laid 

The  roundels  down ;  I  climb  not ;  still  aloft 

The  platform  stretches  !     Blisses  strong  and  soft 

I  dared  not  entertain  elude  me  ;  yet 

Never  of  what  they  promised  could  I  get 

A  glimpse  till  now  !     The  common  sort,  the  crowd, 

Exist,  perceive ;  with  Being  are  endowed. 


94  SORDELLO. 

However  slight,  distinct  from  what  they  See, 
However  bounded :  Happiness  must  be 
To  feed  the  first  by  gleanings  from  the  last, 
Attain  its  qualities,  and  slow  or  fast 
Become  what  one  beholds ;  such  peace-in-strife 
By  transmutation  is  the  Use  of  Life, 
The  Alien  turning  Native  to  the  soul 
Or  body — which  instructs  me ;  I  am  whole 
There  and  demand  a  Palma ;  had  the  world 
Been  from  my  soul  to  a  like  distance  hurled 
'Twere  Happiness  to  make  it  one  with  me — 
Whereas  I  must,  ere  I  begin  to  Be, 
Include  a  world,  in  flesh,  I  comprehend 
In  spirit  now ;  and  this  done,  what's  to  blend 
"With  ?     Nought  is  Alien  here — my  Will 
Owns  it  already ;  yet  can  turn  it  still 
Less  Native,  since  my  Means  to  correspond 
With  Will  are  so  unworthy  'twas  my  bond 
To  tread  the  very  ones  that  tantalize 
Me  now  into  a  grave,  never  to  rise — 
I  die  then  !     Will  the  rest  agree  to  die  ? 
Next  Age  or  no  ?     Shall  its  Sordello  try 
Clue  after  clue  and  catch  at  last  the  clue 
I  miss,  that's  underneath  my  finger  too, 


SORDELLO.  95 

Twice,  thrice  a  day,  perhaps, — some  yearning  traced 

Deeper,  some  petty  consequence  embraced 

Closer  !     Why  fled  I  Mantua  then  ?     Complained 

So  much  my  Will  was  fettered,  yet  remained 

Content  within  a  tether  half  the  range 

I  could  assign  it  ? — able  to  exchange 

My  ignorance,  I  felt,  for  knowledge,  and 

Idle  because  I  could  thus  understand — 

Could  e'en  have  penetrated  to  its  core 

Our  mortal  mystery,  and  yet  forbore, 

Preferred  elaborating  in  the  dark 

My  casual  stuff*,  by  any  wretched  spark 

Born  of  my  predecessors,  tho'  one  stroke 

Of  mine  had  brought  the  flame  forth !  Mantua's  yoke. 

My  minstrel's-trade,  was  to  behold  mankind, 

And  my  own  matter — just  to  bring  my  mind 

Behold,  just  extricate,  for  my  acquist. 

Each  object  suffered  stifle  in  the  mist 

Convention,  hazard,  blindness  could  impose 

In  their  relation  to  myself. 

He  rose. 
The  level  wind  carried  above  the  firs 
Clouds,  the  irrevocable  travellers, 
Onward. 


I 


96  SORDELLO. 

Pushed  thus  into  a  drowsy  copse, 
Arms  twine  about  my  neck,  each  eyelid  drops 
Under  a  humid  finger ;  while  there  fleets 
Outside  the  screen  a  pageant  time  repeats 
Never  again !     To  be  deposed — immured 
Clandestinely — still  petted,  still  assured 
To  govern  were  fatiguing  work — the  Sight 
Fleeting  meanwhile  !    'Tis  noontide — wreak  ere  night 
Somehow  one's  will  upon  it  rather  !     Slake 
This  thirst  somehow,  the  poorest  impress  take 
That  serves  !     A  blasted  bud  displays  you,  torn, 
Faint  rudiments  of  the  full  flower  unborn ; 
But  who  divines  what  petal  coats  o*erclasp 
Of  the  bulb  dormant  in  the  Mummy's  grasp 
Taurello  sent  .  .  . 

Taurello  ?     Palma  sent 
Your  Trouvere  (Naddo  interposing  leant 
Over  the  lost  bard's  shoulder)  and  believe 
You  cannot  more  reluctantly  conceive 
Than  I  pronounce  her  message  :  we  depart 
Together  :  what  avail  a  poet's  heart 
Verona  and  her  gauds  ?  ^Ye  blades  of  grass 
Sufiice  him.    News  ?     Why,  where  your  marish  was, 
On  its  mud-banks  smoke  rises  after  smoke 
r  the  valley  like  a  spout  of  hell  new-broke. 


SORDELLO.  97 

Oh,  the  world's  tidings  !  little  thanks,  I  guess, 

For  them.     The  father  of  our  Patroness 

Playing  Taurello  an  astounding  trick 

Parts  between  Ecelin  and  Alberic 

His  wealth  and  goes  into  a  convent :  both 

Wed  Guelfs :  the  Count  and  Palma  plighted  troth 

A  week  since  at  Verona :  and  she  wants 

You  doubtless  to  contrive  the  marriage-chants 

Ere  Richard  storms  Ferrara.     Your  response 

To  Palma  ?     Wherefore  jest  ?     Depart  at  once  ? 

A  good  resolve !     In  truth  I  hardly  hoped 

So  prompt  an  acquiescence.     Have  you  groped 

Out  wisdom  in  the  wilds  here  ? — Thoughts  may  be 

Over-poetical  for  poetry  ? 

Pearl-white  you  minstrels  liken  Palma's  neck, 

And  yet  what  spoils  an  orient  like  some  speck 

Of  genuine  white  turning  its  own  white  grey  ? 

You  take  me  ?     Curse  the  cicales  ! 

One  more  day — 
One  eve — appears  Yerona !     Many  a  group, 
(You  mind)  instructed  of  the  osprey's  swoop 
On  1  nx  and  ounce,  was  gathering — Christendom 
Sure  to  receive,  whatever  it  might  be,  from 
The  evening's  purpose  cheer  or  detriment 
Since  Friedrich  only  waited  some  event 
H 


98  SORDELLO. 

Like  this  of  Ghibellins  establishing 

Themselves  within  Ferrara,  ere,  as  King 

Of  Lombardy,  he'd  glad  descend  there,  wage 

Old  warfare  with  the  Pontiff,  disengage 

His  barons  from  the  burghers,  and  restore 

The  rule  of  Charlemagne  broken  of  yore 

By  Hildebrand.     That  eve-long  each  by  each 

Sordello  sate  and  Palma  :  little  speech 

At  first  in  that  dim  closet,  face  with  face 

Despite  the  tumult  in  the  market  place 

Exchanging  quick  low  laughters  :  now  would  gush 

Word  upon  word  to  meet  a  sudden  flush, 

A  look  left  off,  a  shifting  lips'  surmise — 

But  for  the  most  part  their  two  histories 

Ran  best  thro'  the  locked  fingers  and  linked  arms. 

And  so  the  night  flew  on  w4th  its  alarms 

Till  in  burst  one  of  Palma's  retinue  ; 

Now  Lady,  gasped  he.     Then  arose  the  two 

And  leaned  into  Verona's  air  dead  still. 

A  balcony  lay  black  beneath  until 

Out  'mid  a  gush  of  torchfire  gTey-haired  men 

Came  on  it  and  harangued  the  people  :  then 

Sea-like  that  people  surging  to  and  fro 

Shouted,  Hale  forth  the  Carroch — trumpets,  ho, 


SORDELLO.  99 

A  flourish  !  run  it  in  the  ancient  grooves — 
Back  from  the  bell !    Hammer  !  that  whom  behooves 
May  hear  the  League  is  up  !     Peal !  learn  who  list 
Verona  means  not  be  the  first  break  tryst 
To-morrow  with  the  League. 

Enough.     Now  turn — 
Over  the  Eastern  cypresses  :  discern 
You  any  beacon  set  a-glimmer  ? 

Rang 
The  air  with  shouts  that  overpowered  the  clang 
Of  the  incessant  carroch  even.     Haste — 
The  Candle's  at  the  gate- way  !  ere  it  waste 
Each  soldier  stands  beside,  armed  fit  to  march 
With  Tiso  Sampier  thro'  that  Eastern  arch ! 
Ferrara's  succoured,  Palma ! 

Once  again 
They  sate  together  ;  some  strange  thing  in  train 
To  say,  so  difiicult  was  Palma's  place 
In  taking,  with  a  coy  fastidious  grace 
Like  the  bird's  flutter  ere  it  fix  and  feed ; 
But  when  she  felt  she  held  her  friend  indeed 
Safe,  she  threw  back  her  curls,  began  implant 
Her  lessons  ;  telling  of  another  want 
Goito's  quiet  nourished  than  his  own ; 
Palma — to  serve,  as  him — be  served,  alone 
h2 


100  SORDELLO. 

Importing  ;  Agnes'  milk  so  neutralised 

The  blood  of  Ecelin.     Nor  be  surprised 

If,  while  Sordello  nature  captive  led, 

In  dream  was  Palma  wholly  subjected 

To  some  out-soul  which  dawned  not  though  she  pined 

Delaying  still  (pursued  she)  heart  and  mind 

To  live :  how  dared  I  let  expand  the  force 

Within  me  till  some  out-soul  whose  resource 

It  grew  for  should  direct  it  ?     Every  law 

Of  life,  its  fitnesses  and  every  flaw, 

Must  that  determine  whose  corporeal  shape 

Would  be  no  other  than  the  prime  escape 

And  revelation  to  me  of  a  Will 

Orb-like  o'ershrouded  and  inscrutable 

Above  except  the  point  I  was  to  know 

Shone  that  myself,  my  powers,  might  overflow 

So  far,  so  much ;  as  now  it  signified 

Which  earthly  shape  it  henceforth  chose  to  guide 

Me  by,  whose  lip  selected  to  declare 

Its  oracles,  what  fleshly  garb  would  wear: 

— The  first  of  intimations,  whom  to  love ; 

The  next,  how  love  him.     And  that  orb  above 

The  castle-covert  and  the  mountain-close 

Slow  in  appearing,  if  beneath  arose 


BORDELLO.  101 

Cravings,  aversions,  and  our  green  precinct 
Took  pride  in  me  at  unawares  distinct 
With  this  or  that  endowment,  how  represt, 
At  once  such  jetting  power  shrunk  to  the  rest ! 
Was  I  to  have  a  chance  touch  spoil  me,  leave 
My  spirit  thence  unfitted  to  receive 
The  consummating  spell  ? — that  spell  so  near 
Moreover  :  waits  he  not  the  waking  year  ? 
His  almond- blossoms  must  be  honey-ripe 
By  this  ;  to  welcome  him  fresh  runnels  stripe 
The  thawed  ravines ;  because  of  him  the  wind 
Walks  like  a  herald.     I  shall  surely  find 
Him  now ! 

And  chief  that  earnest  April  mom 
Of  Richard's  Love-court  was  it  time,  so  worn 
And  white  her  cheek,  so  idly  her  blood  beat. 
Sitting  that  morn  beside  the  Lady's  feet 
And  saying  as  she  prompted ;  till  outburst 
One  face  from  all  the  faces — not  then  first 
She  knew  it ;  where  in  maple-chamber  glooms, 
Crowned   with   what    sanguine-heart    pomegranate 
Advanced  it  ever  ?  Men  s  acknowledgment    j^blooms 
Sanctioned  her  own  :  'twas  taken,  Palma's  bent, 
She  said. 


102  SORDELLO. 

And  day  by  day  the  Tuscan  dumb 
Sat  scheming,  scheming ;  Ecelin  would  come 
Gaunt,  scared,  Cesano  baffles  me,  he'd  say  : 
Better  I  fought  it  out  my  father  s  way  ! 
Strangle  Ferrara  in  its  drowning  flats 
And  you  and  your  Taurello  yonder — what's 
Romano's  business  there  ?     An  hour's  concern 
To  cure  the  fro  ward  Chief !  induced  return 
Much  heartened  from  those  overmeaning  eyes, 
Wound  up  to  persevere,  his  enterprise 
Marked  out  anew,  its  exigent  of  wit 
Apportioned,  she  at  liberty  to  sit 
And  scheme  against  the  next  emergence,  I — 
To  covet  what  I  deemed  their  sprite,  made  fly 
Or  fold  the  wing — to  con  your  horoscope 
For  leave  command  those  steely  shafts  shoot  ope 
Or  straight  assuage  their  blinding  eagerness 
To  blank  smooth  snow  :  what  semblance  of  success 
To  any  of  my  plans  for  making  you 
Romano's  lord  ?     That  Chief — her  children  too — 
There  Salinguerra  would  obstruct  me  sheer. 
And  the  insuperable  Tuscan  here 
Stayed  me !     But  one  wild  eve  that  Lady  died 
Jn  her  lone  chamber  :  only  I  beside  : 


SORDELLO.  103 

Taurello  far  at  Naples,  and  my  sire 
At  Padua,  Ecelin  away  in  ire 
With  Alberic  :  she  held  me  thus — a  clutch 
To  make  our  spirits  as  our  bodies  touch — 
And  so  began  flinging  the  past  up,  heaps 
Of  uncouth  treasure  from  their  sunless  sleeps 
Within  her  soul ;  deeds  rose  along  with  dreams, 
Fragments  of  many  miserable  schemes, 
Secrets,  more  secrets,  then — no,  not  the  last — 
'Mongst  others,  like  a  casual  trick  o'  the  past, 
How  .  .  .  ay,  she  told  me,  gathering  her  face 
— That  face  of  hers  into  one  arch-grimace 
To  die  with  .  .  . 

Friend,  'tis  gone  !  but  not  the  fear 
Of  that  fell  laughing,  heard  as  now  I  hear. 
Nor  faltered  voice,  nor  seemed  herself  grow  weak, 
When  i'  the  midst  abrupt  she  ceased  to  speak 
— Dead,  as  to  serve  a  purpose,  mark,  for  in 
Rushed  o'  the  very  instant  Ecelin 
(How  summoned  who  divines  ?)  looking  as  if 
Part  understood  he  why  his  mate  lay  stiff 
Already  in  my  arms  for,  Girl,  how  must 
I  manage  Este  in  the  matter  thrust 
Upon  me,  how  unravel  their  bad  coil  ? 
Since  (he  declared)  'tis  on  your  brow — a  soil 


104  SORDELLO. 

Like  hers  there  !  then  said  in  a  breath  he  lacked 

No  counsel  after  all,  had  signed  no  pact 

With  devils,  nor  was  treason  here  or  there, 

Goito  or  Yicenza,  his  affair : 

He  'd  bury  it  in  Adelaide's  deep  grave 

And  begin  life  afresh,  nor,  either,  slave 

For  any  Friedrich's  or  Taurello's  sake ! 

What  booted  him  to  meddle  or  to  make 

In  Lombardy  ?     'Twas  afterward  I  knew 

The  meaning  of  his  promise  to  undo 

All  she  had  done — why  marriages  were  made, 

New  friendships  entered  on,  old  followers  paid 

In  curses  for  their  pains,  people's  amaze 

At  height,  when  passing  out  by  Gate  St.  Blaise 

He  stopped  short  in  Yicenza,  bent  his  head 

Over  a  friar  s  neck,  had  vowed,  he  said. 

Long  since,  nigh  thirty  years,  because  his  wife 

And  child  were  saved  there,  to  bestow  his  life 

On  God,  his  gettings  on  the  Church. 

Exiled 
Within  Goito,  still  that  dream  beguiled 
Her  days  and  nights  ;  'twas  found  the  orb  she  sought 
To  serve,  those  glimpses  came  of  Fomalhaut 
No  other  :  how  then  serve  it  ? — authorise 
Him  and  Romano  mingle  destinies  ? 


SORDELLO.  105 

And  straight  Romano's  angel  stood  beside 
Her  who  had  else  been  Boniface's  bride, 
For  Salinguerra  'twas,  the  neck  low  bent, 
The  voice  lightened  to  music  as  he  meant 
To  learn  not  teach  me  how  Romano  waxed, 
Wherefore  it  waned,  and  why  if  I  relaxed 
My  grasp  (think,  I !)  would  drop  a  thing  effete, 
Frayed  by  itself,  unequal  to  complete 
The  course  and  counting  every  step  astray 
A  gain  so  much.     Romano  every  way 
Stable,  a  House  now — why  this  starting  back 
Into  the  very  outset  of  its  track  ? 
This  recent  patching-principle  allied 
Our  House  with  other  Houses — what  beside 
Concerned  the  apparition,  yon  grim  Knight 
Who  followed  Conrad  hither  in  such  plight 
His  utmost  wealth  was  reckoned  in  his  steed  ? 
For  Ecelo,  that  prowler,  was  decreed 
A  task  in  the  beginning  hazardous 
To  him  as  ever  task  can  be  to  us, 
But  did  the  weather-beaten  thief  despair 
When  first  our  crystal  cincture  of  warm  air. 
That  binds  the  Trivisan  as  its  spice-belt 
(Crusaders  say)  the  tract  where  Jesus' dwelt, 


106  SORDELLO. 

Furtive  he  pierced  and  Este  was  to  face — 

Despaired  Saponian  Strength  of  Lombard  Grace  ? 

Said  he  for  making  surer  aught  made  sure, 

Maturing  what  already  was  mature  ? 

No  ;  his  heart  prompted  Ecelo,  Confront 

Este,  inspect  yourself.     What's  nature  ?     Wont. 

Discard  three-parts  your  nature  and  adopt 

The  rest  as  an  advantage  I     Old  Strength  propped 

The  earliest  of  Podestas  among 

The  Yincentines,  no  less  than,  while  there  sprung 

His  Palace  up  in  Padua  like  a  threat, 

Their  noblest  spied  a  Grace  unnoticed  yet 

In  Conrad's  crew.     Thus  far  the  object  gained, 

Romano  was  established  ;  has  remained — 

For  are  you  not  Italian,  truly  peer 

With  Este  ?     Azzo  better  soothes  it  ear 

Than  Alberic  ?  or  is  this  lion  s-crine 

From  over-mount  (this  yellow  hair  of  mine) 

So  weak  a  graft  on  Agnes  Este's  stock  ? 

(Thus  went  he  on  with  something  of  a  mock) 

Wherefore  recoil  then  from  the  very  fate 

Conceded  you,  refuse  to  imitate 

Your  model  farther  ?     Este  long  since  left 

Being  mere  Este :  as  a  blade  its  heft. 


SORDELLO.  107 

Este  requires  the  Pope  to  further  him  : 

And  you,  the  Kaiser :  whom  your  father's  whim 

Foregoes  or,  better,  never  shall  forego 

If  Palma  dares  pursue  what  Ecelo 

Commenced  but  Ecelin  desists  from  :  just 

As  Adelaide  of  Susa  could  intrust 

Her  donative  (that 's  Piedmont  to  the  Pope, 

The  Alpine-pass  for  him  to  shut  or  ope 

Twixt  France  and  Italy)  to  the  superb 

Matilda's  perfecting, — lest  aught  disturb 

Our  Adelaide's  great  counter-project  for 

Giving  her  Trentine  to  the  Emperor 

And  passage  here  from  Germany,  shall  you 

Take  it,  my  slender  plodding  talent,  too — 

Urged  me  Taurello  w4th  his  half-smile. 

He 
As  Patron  of  the  scattered  family 
Conveyed  her  to  his  Mantua,  kept  in  bruit 
Azzo's  alliances  and  Richard's  suit 
Until,  the  Kaiser  excommunicate. 
Nothing  remains,  Taurello  said,  but  wait 
Some  rash  procedure :  Palma  was  the  link, 
As  Agnes'  child,  between  us,  and  they  shrink 
From  losing  Palma :  judge  if  we  advance 
Your  father  s  method  your  inheritance ! 


108  SORDELLO. 

That  day  she  was  betrothed  to  Boniface 

At  Padua  by  Taurello's  self,  took  place 

The  outrage  of  the  Ferrarese :  again, 

That  day  she  sought  Yerona  with  the  train 

Agreed  for,  by  Taurello's  policy 

Convicting  Richard  of  the  fault,  since  she 

Was  present  to  annul  or  to  confirm, 

Richard,  whose  patience  had  outstayed  its  term. 

Quitted  Yerona  for  the  siege. 

And  now 
"What  glory  may  engird  Sordello's  brow 
For  this  ?     A  month  since  Oliero  sunk 
All  Ecelin  that  was  into  a  Monk  ; 
But  how  could  Salinguerra  so  forget 
His  liege  of  thirty  summers  as  grudge  yet 
One  effort  to  recover  him  ?     He  sent 
Forthwith  the  tidings  of  the  Town  s  event 
To  Oliero,  adding,  he,  despite 
The  recent  folly,  recognised  his  right 
To  order  such  proceedings ;  should  he  wring 
Its  uttermost  advantage  out,  or  fling 
This  chance  away  ?     If  not  him,  who  was  Head 
Now  of  the  House  ?    Through  me  that  missive  sped  ; 
My  father  s  answer  will  by  me  return. 
Behold !     For  him,  he  writes,  no  more  concern 


SORDELLO.  109 

With  strife  than  for  his  children  with  the  plots 
Of  Friedrich.     Old  engagements  out  he  blots 
For  aye  :  Taurello  shall  no  more  subserve 
Nor  Ecelin  impose.     Lest  this  unnerve 
Him  therefore  at  this  juncture,  slack  his  grip 
Of  Richard,  suffer  the  occasion  slip, 
I,  in  his  sons'  default  (who,  mating  with 
Este,  forsake  Romano  as  the  frith 
Its  mainsea  for  the  firmland  that  makes  head 
Against)  I  stand,  Romano ;  in  their  stead 
Assume  the  station  they  desert,  and  give 
Still,  as  the  Kaiser  s  Representative, 
Taurello  licence  he  demands.     Midnight — 
Morning — by  noon  to-morrow,  making  light 
Of  the  League's  issue,  we,  in  some  gay  weed 
Like  yours  disguised  together,  may  precede 
The  arbitrators  to  Ferrara ;  reach 
Him,  let  Taurello' s  noble  accents  teach 
The  rest !  then  say  if  I  have  misconceived 
Your  destiny,  too  readily  believed 
The  Kaiser  s  cause  your  own. 

And  Palma  's  fled. 
Though  no  affirmative  disturbs  the  head 
A  dying  lamp-flame  sinks  and  rises  o'er 
Like  the  alighted  planet  Pollux  wore. 


110  SORDELLO. 

Until,  morn  breaking,  he  resolves  to  be 

Gate- vein  of  this  heart's  blood  of  Lombardy, 

Soul  to  their  body — have  their  aggregate 

Of  souls  and  bodies,  and  so  conquer  fate 

Though  he  should  live,  a  centre  of  disgust 

Even,  apart,  core  of  the  outward  crust 

He  vivifies,  assimilates.     For  thus 

Bring  I  Bordello  to  the  rapturous 

Exclaim  at  the  crowd's  cry,  because  one  round 

Of  life  was  quite  accomplished  and  he  found 

Not  only  that  a  soul,  howe'er  its  might, 

Is  insufficient  to  its  own  delight 

Both  in  corporeal  organs  and  in  skill 

By  means  of  such  to  body  forth  its  Will — 

And,  after,  insufficient  to  apprise 

Men  of  that  Will,  oblige  them  recognise 

The  Hid  by  the  Revealed — but  that,  the  last 

Nor  lightest  of  the  struggles  overpast, 

His  Will,  bade  abdicate,  which  would  not  void 

The  throne,  might  sit  there ,  suffer  be  enjoyed 

The  same  a  varied  and  divine  array 

Incapable  of  homage  the  first  way 

Nor  fit  to  render  incidentally 

Tribute  connived  at,  taken  by  the  by, 


SORDELLO.  lil 

In  joys  :  and  if,  thus  warranted  rescind 

The  ignominious  exile  of  mankind 

Whose  proper  service,  ascertained  intact 

As  yet  (by  Him  to  be  themselves  made  act. 

Not  watch  Sordello  acting  each  of  them) 

"Was  to  secure — if  the  true  diadem 

Seenied  imminent  while  our  Sordello  drank 

The  wisdom  of  that  golden  Palma,  thank 

Yerona's  Lady  in  her  Citadel 

Founded  by  Gaulish  Brennus  legends  tell — 

And  truly  when  she  left  him  the  sun  reared 

A  head  like  the  first  clamberer's  that  peered 

A-top  the  Capitol,  his  face  on  flame 

With  triumph,  triumphing  till  Manlius  came. 

Nor  slight  too  much  my  rhymes — "  that   spring, 

Dispart,  disperse,  lingering  overhead  [^dispread. 

Like  an  escape  of  angels  ? "     Hather  say 

My  transcendental  platan  !  mounting  gay 

(An  archimage  so  courts  a  novice-queen) 

With  tremulous  silvered  trunk,  whence  branches  sheen 

Laugh  out,  thick  foliaged  next,  a-shiver  soon 

With  coloured  buds,  then  glowing  like  the  moon 

One  mild  flame,  last  a  pause,  a  burst,  and  all 

Her  ivory  limbs  are  smothered  by  a  fall, 


112  SORDELLO. 

Bloom-flinders  and  fruit-sparkles  and  leaf-dust, 
Ending  the  weird  work  prosecuted  just 
For  her  amusement ;  he  decrepit,  stark, 
Dozes ;  her  uncontrolled  delight  may  mark 
Apart — 

Yet  not  so,  surely  never  so ! 
Only  as  good  my  soul  were  suffered  go 
O'er  the  lagune  :  forth  fare  thee,  put  aside 
Ehtrance  thy  synod,  as  a  God  may  glide 
Out  of  the  world  he  fills  and  leave  it  mute 
A  myriad  ages  as  we  men  compute. 
Returning  into  it  without  a  break 
I'  the  consciousness !     They  sleep,  and  I  awake 
O'er  the  lagune. 

Sordello  said  once,  note 
In  just  such  songs  as  Eglamor,  say,  wrote 
With  heart  and  soul  and  strength,  for  he  believed 
Himself  achieving  all  to  be  achieved 
By  singer — in  such  songs  you  find  alone 
Completeness,  judge  the  song  and  singer  One 
And  either  s  purpose  answered,  his  in  it 
Or  its  in  him  :  while  from  true  works  (to  wit 
Sordello's  dream-performances  that  will 
Be  never  more  than  dream)  escapes  there  still 


SORDELLO.  113 

Some  proof  the  singer  s  proper  life 's  beneath 

The  life  his  song  exhibits,  this  a  sheath 

To  that ;  a  passion  and  a  knowledge  far 

Transcending  these,  majestic  as  they  are. 

Smoulder ;  his  lay  was  but  an  episode 

In  the  bard's  life.     Which  evidence  you  owed 

To  some  slight  weariness,  a  looking-off 

Or  start-away,  the  childish  skit  or  scoff 

In  "  Charlemagne,'*  for  instance,  dreamed  divine 

In  every  point  except  one  restive  line 

(Those  daughters  !) — what  significance  may  lurk 

In  that  ?     My  life  commenced  before  that  work. 

Continues  after  it,  as  on  I  fare 

With  no  more  stopping  possibly,  no  care 

To  jot  down  (says  the  bard)  the  why  and  how 

And  where  and  when  of  life  as  I  do  now  : 

But  shall  I  cease  to  live  for  that  ?     Alas 

For  you  !  who  sigh,  when  shall  it  come  to  pass 

We  read  that  story,  when  will  he  compress 

The  future  years,  his  whole  life's  business, 

Into  another  lay  which  that  one  flout, 

Howe'er  inopportune  it  be,  lets  out 

Engrosses  him  already  while  professed 

To  meditate  with  us  eternal  rest  ? 


114  ,  SORDELLO. 

Strike  sail,  slip  cable  !  here  the  galley 's  moored 
For  once,  the  awning's  stretched,  the  poles  assured ; 
Noontide  above ;  except  the  wave's  crisp  dash. 
Or  buzz  of  colibri,  or  tortoise'  splash, 
The  margin's  silent ;  out  with  every  spoil 
Made  in  our  tracking,  coil  by  mighty  coil, 
This  serpent  of  a  river  to  his  head 
I'  the  midst !     Admire  each  treasure  as  we  spread 
The  turf  to  help  us  tell  our  history 
Aright :  give  ear  then,  gentles,  and  descry 
The  groves  of  giant  rushes  how  they  grew 
Like  demons'  endlong  tresses  we  sailed  through. 
How  mountains  yawned,  forests  to  give  us  vent 
Opened,  each  doleful  side,  yet  on  we  went 
Till  .  .  .  may  that  beetle  (shake  your  cap)  attest 
The  springing  of  a  land-wind  from  the  West ! 
Wherefore  ?     Ah  yes,  we  frolic  it  to-day  : 
To-morrow,  and  the  pageant's  moved  away 
Down  to  the  poorest  tent-pole :  we  and  you 
Part  company :  no  other  may  pursue 
Eastward  your  voyage,  be  informed  what  fate 
Intends,  if  triumph  or  decline  await 
The  tempter  of  the  everlasting  steppe. 
I  sung  this  on  an  empty  palace -step 


SORDELLO.  115 

At  Venice  :  why  should  I  break  off,  nor  sit 
Longer  upon  my  step,  exhaust  the  fit 
England  gave  birth  to  ?     Who's  adorable 

Enough  reclaim  a no  Sordello's  Will 

Alack  ! — be  queen  to  me  ?     That  Bassanese 
Busied  among  her  smoking  fruit -boats  ?    These 
Perhaps  from  our  delicious  Asolo 
Who  twinkle,  pigeons  o'er  the  portico 
Not  prettier,  bind  late  lilies  into  sheaves 
To  deck  the  bridge-side  chapel,  dropping  leaves 
Soiled  by  their  own  loose  gold-meal  ?     Ah,  beneath 
The  cool  arch  stoops  she,  brownest-cheek !  Her  wreath 
Endures  a  month — a  half  month — if  I  make 
A  queen  of  her,  continue  for  her  sake 
Bordello's  story  ?     Nay,  that  Paduan  girl 
Splashes  with  barer  legs  where  a  live  whirl 
In  the  dead  black  Giudecca  proves  sea- weed 
Drifting  has  sucked  down  three,  four,  all  indeed 
Save  one  pale-red  striped,  pale-blue  turbaned  post 
For  gondolas. 

You  sad  disheveled  ghost 
That  pluck  at  me  and  point,  are  you  advised 
I  breathe  ?     Let  stay  those  girls  (e'en  her  disguised 
— Jewels  in  the  locks  that  love  no  crownet  like 
Their  native  field-buds  and  the  green  wheat  spike, 
i2 


116  SORDELLO. 

So  fair  ! — Who  left  this  end  of  June's  turmoil, 

Shook  off,  as  might  a  lily  its  gold  soil, 

Pomp,  save  a  foolish  gem  or  two,  and  free 

Came  join  the  peasants  o'er  the  kissing  sea.) 

Look  they  too  happy,  too  tricked  out  ?     Confess 

You  have  so  niggard  stock  of  happiness 

To  share  that,  do  one's  uttermost,  dear  wretch. 

One  labours  ineffectually  stretch 

It  o'er  you  so  that  mother,  children,  both 

May  equitably  flaunt  the  sumpter-cloth  ! 

No  :  tear  the  robe  yet  farther  :  be  content 

With  seeing  some  few  score  pre-eminent 

Through  shreds  of  it,  acknowledged  happy  wights, 

Engrossing  what  should  furnish  all,  by  rights — 

(At  home  we  dizen  scholars,  chiefs  and  kings. 

But  in  this  magic  weather  hardly  clings 

The  old  garb  gracefully  :  Venice,  a  type 

Of  Life,  'twixt  blue  and  blue  extends,  a  stripe, 

As  Life,  the  somewhat,  hangs'twixt  nought  and  nought  r 

'Tis  Venice,  and  'tis  Life — as  good  you  sought 

To  spare  me  the  Piazza's  slippery  stone. 

Or  stay  me  thrid  her  cross  canals  alone. 

As  hinder  Life  what  seems  the  single  good 

Sole  purpose,  one  thing  to  be  understood 


SORDELLO.  117 

Of  Life) — best,  be  they  Peasants,  be  they  Queens, 

Take  them,  I  say,  made  happy  any  means. 

Parade  them  for  the  common  credit,  vouch 

A  luckless  residue  we  send  to  crouch 

In  corners  out  of  sight  was  just  as  framed 

For  happiness,  its  portion  might  have  claimed 

And  so,  could  we  concede  that  portion,  stalked 

Fastuous  as  any — such  my  project,  baulked 

Already  ;  hardly  venture  I  adjust 

A  lappet  when  I  find  you  !     To  mistrust 

Me  !  nor  unreasonably.     You,  no  doubt, 

Have  the  true  knack  of  tiring  suitors  out 

With  those  thin  lips  on  tremble,  lashless  eyes 

Inveterately  tear-shot — there,  be  wise 

Mistress  of  mine,  there,  there,  as  if  I  meant 

You  insult !    Shall  your  friend  (not  slave)  be  shent 

For  speaking  home  ?     Beside  care-bit  erased 

Broken-up  beauties  ever  took  my  taste 

Supremely,  and  I  love  you  more,  far  more 

That  she  I  looked  should  foot  Life's  temple-floor — 

Years  ago,  leagues  at  distance,  when  and  where 

A  whisper  came.  Seek  others,  since  thy  care 

Is  found,  a  life's  provision  ;  if  a  race 

Should  be  thy  mistress,  and  into  one  face 


118  SORDELLO. 

The  many  faces  crowd  ?     Ah,  had  I,  judge, 
Or  no,  your  secret  ?     Rough  apparel — grudge 
All  ornaments  save  tag  or  tassel  worn 
To  hint  we  are  not  thoroughly  forlorn — 
Slouch  bonnet,  unloop  mantle,  careless  go 
Alone  (that's  saddest  but  it  must  be  so) 
Through  Venice,  sing  now  and  now  glance  aside, 
Aught  desultory  or  undignified. 
And,  ravishingest  lady,  will  you  pass 
Or  not  each  formidable  group,  the  mass 
Before  the  Basilike  (that  feast  gone  by, 
God's  day,  the  great  June  Corpus  Domini) 
And  wistfully  foregoing  proper  men 
Come  timid  up  to  me  for  alms  ?     And  then 
The  luxury  to  hesitate,  feign  do 
Some  unexampled  grace,  when  whom  but  you 
Dare  I  bestow  your  own  upon  ?     And  hear  , 
Me  out  before  you  say  it  is  to  sneer 
I  call  you  ravishing,  for  I  regret 
Little  that  she,  whose  early  foot  was  set 
Forth  as  she'd  plant  it  on  a  pedestal, 
Now  i'  the  silent  city,  seems  to  fall 
Towards  me — no  wreath,  only  a  lip's  unrest 
To  quiet,  surcharged  eyelids  to  be  pressed 


SORDELLO.  119 

Dry  of  their  tears  upon  my  bosom  :  strange 

Such  sad  chance  should  produce  in  thee  such  change, 

My  love  !  warped  men,  souls,  bodies  !  yet  God  spoke 

Of  right-hand  foot  and  eye — selects  our  yoke 

Sordello  !  as  your  poetship  may  find  : 

So  sleep  upon  my  shoulder,  child,  nor  mind 

Their  foolish  talk ;  we'll  manage  reinstate 

The  matter ;  ask  moreover,  when  they  prate 

Of  evil  men  past  hope,  don  t  each  contrive 

Despite  the  evil  you  abuse  to  live  ? 

Keeping,  each  losel,  thro'  a  maze  of  lies, 

His  own  conceit  of  truth  ?  to  which  he  hies 

By  obscure  tortuous  windings,  if  you  will. 

But  to  himself  not  inaccessible  ; 

He  sees  it,  and  his  lies  are  for  the  crowd 

Who  cannot  see  ;  some  fancied  right  allowed 

His  vilest  wrong,  empowered  the  fellow  clutch 

One  pleasure  from  the  multitude  of  such 

Denied  him  :  then  assert,  all  men  appear 

To  think  all  better  than  themselves,  by  here 

Trusting  a  crowd  they  wrong  ;  but  really,  say. 

All  men  think  all  men  stupider  than  they 

Since  save  themselves  no  other  comprehends 

The  complicated  scheme  to  make  amends 


120  SORDELLO. 

— Evil,  the  scheme  by  which,  thro'  Ignorance 
Good  labours  to  exist.     A  slight  advance 
Merely  to  find  the  sickness  you  die  through 
And  nought  beside  :  but  if  one  can  t  eschew 
One's  portion  in  the  common  lot,  at  least 
One  can  avoid  an  ignorance  increased 
Tenfold  by  dealing  out  hint  after  hint 
How  nought  is  like  dispensing  without  stint 
The  water  of  life — so  easy  to  dispense 
Beside,  when  one  has  probed  the  centre  whence 
Commotion's  born — could  tell  you  of  it  all 
— Meantime,  just  meditate  my  madrigal 
O*  the  mugwort  that  conceals  a  dewdrop  safe  !    . 
What,  dullard  ?  we  and  you  in  smothery  chafe 
Babes,  baldheads,  stumbled  thus  far  into  Zin 
The  Horrid,  getting  neither  out  nor  in, 
A  hungry  sun  above  us,  sands  among 
Our  throats,  each  dromedary  lolls  a  tongue. 
Each  camel  churns  a  sick  and  frothy  chap. 
And  you,  'twixt  tales  of  Potiphar  s  mishap 
And  sonnets  on  the  earliest  ass  that  spoke. 
Remark  you  wonder  any  one  needs  choak 
With  founts  about !     Potsherd  him,  Gibeonites, 
While  awkwardly  enough  your  Moses  smites 


SORDELLO.  121 

The  rock  though  he  forego  his  Promised  Land, 

Thereby,  have  Satan  claim  his  carcass,  and 

Dance,  forsooth,  Metaphysic  Poet  ...  ah 

Mark  ye  the  dim  first  oozings  ?     Meribah  ! 

And  quaffing  at  the  fount  my  courage  gained 

Recall — not  that  I  prompt  ye — who  explained  .  .  . 

Presumptuous  !  interrupts  one.     You  not  I 

'Tis,  Brother,  marvel  at  and  magnify 

Mine  office :  office,  quotha  ?  can  we  get 

To  the  beginning  of  the  office  yet  ? 

What  do  we  here  ?  simply  experiment 

Each  on  the  other's  power  and  its  intent 

When  elsewhere  tasked,  if  this  of  mine  were  trucked 

For  thine  to  either  s  profit, — watch  construct, 

In  short,  an  engine :  with  a  finished  one 

What  it  can  do  is  all,  nought  how  'tis  done ; 

But  this  of  ours  yet  in  probation,  dusk 

A  kernel  of  strange  wheel  work  thro'  its  husk 

Grows  into  shape  by  quarters  and  by  halves ; 

Remark  this  tooth's  spring,  wonder  what  that  valve's 

Fall  bodes,  presume  each  faculty's  device. 

Make  out  each  other  more  or  less  precise — 

The  scope  of  the  whole  engine's  to  be  proved — 

We  die :  which  means  to  say  the  whole's  removed, 


124  SORDELLO. 

The  Minster  minded  that !  in  heaps  the  dust 
Lay  every  where :  that  town,  the  Minster  s  trust, 
Held  Plara ;  who,  its  denizen,  bade  hail 
In  twice  twelve  sonnets,  Naddo,  Tempers  vale. 

Exact  the  town,  the  minster  and  the  street  ! 

As  all  mirth  triumphs,  sadness  means  defeat : 
Lust  triumphs  and  is  gay,  Love's  triumphed  o'er 
And  sad  :  but  Lucio's  sad :  I  said  before  ^ 
Love's  sad,  not  Lucio ;  one  who  loves  may  be 
As  gay  his  love  has  leave  to  hope,  as  he 
Downcast  his  lusts'  desire  escapes  the  springe : 
Tis  of  the  mood  itself  I  speak,  what  tinge 
Determines  it,  else  colourless,  or  mirth. 
Or  melancholy,  as  from  Heaven  or  Earth. 

Ay,  that's  the  variation's  gist !     Indeed  ? 
Thus  far  advanced  in  safety  then,  proceed ! 
And  having  seen  too  what  I  saw,  be  bold 
Enough  encounter  what  I  do  behold 
(That's  sure)  but  you  must  take  on  trust !    Attack 
The  use  and  purpose  of  such  sights  !     Alack, 
Not  so  unwisely  hastes  the  crowd  dispense 
On  Salinguerras  praise  in  preference 
To  the  Sordellos  :  men  of  action  these  ! 
Who  seeing  just  as  little  as  you  please 


SORDELLO.  125 

Yet  turn  that  little  to  account ;  engage 

With,  do  not  gaze  at ;  carry  on  a  stage 

The  work  o*  the  world,  not  merely  make  report 

The  work  existed  ere  their  time — In  short, 

When  at  some  future  no-time  a  hrave  band 

Sees,  using  what  it  sees,  then  shake  my  hand 

In  heaven,  my  brother !    Meanwhile  where's  the  hurt 

To  keep  the  Makers- see  on  the  alert 

At  whose  defection  mortals  stare  aghast 

As  though  Heaven  s  bounteous  window^s  were  slammed 

Incontinent  ?  whereas  all  you  beneath  [^fast 

Should  scowl  at,  curse  them,  bruise  lips,  break  their 

Who  ply  the  pullies  for  neglecting  you  :  [^teeth 

And  therefore  have  I  moulded,  made  anew 

A  Man,  delivered  to  be  turned  and  tried, 

Be  angry  with  or  pleased  at.     On  your  side 

Have  ye  times,  places,  actors  of  your  own  ? 

Try  them  upon  Sordello  once  full-grown, 

And  then — ah  then  !     If  Hercules  first  parched 

His  foot  in  Egypt  only  to  be  marched 

A  sacrifice  for  Jove  with  pomp  to  suit. 

What  chance  have  I  ?     The  demigod  was  mute 

Till  at  the  altar,  where  time  out  of  mind 

Such  guests  became  oblations,  chaplets  twined 


126  SORDELLO. 

His  forehead  long  enough,  and  he  began 

Slaying  the  slayers,  nor  escaped  a  man — 

Take  not  affront,  my  gentle  audience  !  whom 

No  Hercules  shall  make  his  hecatomb 

Believe,  nor  from  his  brows  your  chaplet  rend — 

That's  your  kind  suffrage,  yours,  nay,  yours,  my  friend 

Whose  great  verse  blares  unintermittent  on 

Like  any  trumpeter  at  Marathon, 

He'll  testify  who  when  Plataeas  grew  scant 

Put  up  with  ^tna  for  a  stimulant ! 

And  well  too,  I  acknowledged,  as  it  loomed 

Over  the  Midland  sea  that  morn,  presumed 

All  day,  demolished  by  the  blazing  West 

At  eve,  while  towards  it  tilting  cloudlets  prest 

Like  Persian  ships  for  Salamis.     Friend,  wear 

A  crest  proud  as  desert  while  I  declare 

Had  I  a  flawless  ruby  fit  to  wring 

A  tear  its  colour  from  that  painted  king 

To  lose,  I  would,  for  that  one  smile  which  went 

To  my  heart,  fling  it  in  the  sea  content 

Wearing  your  verse  in  place,  an  amulet 

Sovereign  against  low-thoughtedness  and  fret ! 

My  English  Eyebright,  if  you  are  not  glad 

That,  as  I  stopped  my  task  awhile,  the  sad 


SORDELLO.  127 

Disheveled  form  wherein  I  put  mankind 

To  come  at  times  and  keep  my  pact  in  mind 

Renewed  me, — hear  no  crickets  in  the  hedge 

Nor  let  a  glowworm  spot  the  river  s  edge 

At  home,  and  may  the  summer  showers  gush 

Without  a  warning  from  the  missel  thrush  ! 

For,  Eyebright,  what  I  sing's  the  fate  of  such 

As  find  our  common  nature  (overmuch 

Despised  because  restricted  and  unfit 

To  bear  the  burthen  they  impose  on  it) 

Cling  when  they  would  discard  it ;  craving  strength 

To  leap  from  the  allotted  world,  at  length 

Tis  left — they  floundering  without  a  term 

Each  a  God's  germ,  but  doomed  remain  a  germ 

In  unexpanded  infancy,  assure 

Yourself,  nor  misconceive  my  portraiture 

Nor  undervalue  its  adornments  quaint ! 

What  seems  a  fiend  perchance  may  prove  a  saint : 

Ponder  a  story  ancient  pens  transmit, 

Then  say  if  you  condemn  me  or  acquit. 

John  the  Beloved,  banished  Antioch 

For  Patmos,  bade  collectively  his  flock 

Farewell  but  set  apart  the  closing  eve 

To  comfort  some  his  exile  most  would  grieve 


128  SORDELLO. 

He  kDew :  a  touching  spectacle,  that  house 

In  motion  to  receive  him !    Xanthus'  spouse 

You  missed,  made  panther's  meat  a  month  since;  but 

Xanthus  himself  (for  'twas  his  nephew  shut 

'Twixt  boards  and  sawn  asunder)  Polycarp, 

Soft  Charicle  next  year  no  wheel  could  warp 

To  swear  by  Ca3sar's  fortune,  with  the  rest 

Were  ranged  ;  thro'  whom  the  grey  disciple  prest 

Busily  blessing  right  and  left,  just  stopt 

To  pat  one  infant's  curls  the  hangman  crept 

Soon  after,  reached  the  portal ;  on  its  hinge 

The  door  turns  and  he  enters — what  deep  twinge 

Ruins  the  smiling  mouth,  those  wide  eyes  ^x 

Whereon  ?     How  like  some  spectral  candlestick's 

Branch  the  disciple's  arms  !    Dead  swooned  he,  woke 

Anon,  heaved  sigh,  made  shift  to  gasp  heart-broke 

Get  thee  behind  me  Satan  !  have  I  toiled 

To  no  more  purpose  ?  is  the  gospel  foiled 

Here  too,  and  o'er  my  son's,  my  Xanthus'  hearth, 

Pourtrayed  with  sooty  garb  and  features  swarth — 

Ah  Xanthus,  am  I  to  thy  roof  beguiled 

To  see  the — the — the  Devil  domiciled? 

Whereto  sobbed  Xanthus,  Father,  'tis  yourself 

Installed,  a  limning  which  our  utmost  pelf 


SORDELLO,  129 

"Went  to  procure  against  to-morrow's  loss, 
And  that's  no  twy-prong  but  a  pastoral  cross 
You're  painted  with !    The  puckered  brows  unfold — 
And  you  shall  hear  Sordello's  story  told. 


130  SORDELLO. 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH. 


Meantime  Ferrara  lay  in  rueful  case ; 

The  lady-city,  for  whose  sole  embrace 

Her  pair  of  suitors  struggled,  felt  their  arms 

A  brawny  mischief  to  the  fragile  charms 

Each  tugged  for — one  discovering  to  twist 

Her  tresses  twice  or  thrice  about  his  wrist 

Secured  a  point  of  vantage — one,  how  best 

He'd  parry  that  by  planting  in  her  breast 

His  elbow-spike — both  parties  too  intent 

For  noticing,  howe'er  the  battle  went. 

Its  conqueror  would  have  a  corpse  to  kiss. 

May  Boniface  be  duly  damned  for  this  ! 

Howled  some  old  Ghibellin  as  up  he  turned, 

From  the  wet  heap  of  rubbish  where  they  burned 

His  house,  a  little  scull  with  dazzling  teeth  : 

A  boon,  sweet  Christ — let  Salinguerra  seethe 


BORDELLO.  131 

In  hell  for  ever,  Christ,  and  let  myself 

Be  there  to  laugh  at  him  !  moaned  some  young  Guelf 

Stumbling  upon  a  shrivelled  hand  nailed  fast 

To  the  charred  lintel  of  the  doorway  Tast 

His  father  stood  w^ithin  to  bid  him  speed. 

The  thoroughfares  looked  overrun  with  weed 

--Docks,  quitchgrass,  loathly  mallows  no  man  plants. 

The  stranger  none  of  its  inhabitants 
Crept  out  of  doors  to  taste  fresh  air  again, 
Or  ask  the  purpose  of  a  sumptuous  train 
Admitted  on  a  morning ;  every  town 
Of  the  East  League  was  come  by  envoy  down 
To  treat  for  Richard's  ransom :  here  you  saw 
The  Yicentine,  here  snowy  oxen  draw 
The  Paduan  carroch,  its  vermilion  cross 
On  its  white  j&eld  :  a-tiptoe  o*er  the  fosse 
Looked  Legate  Montelungo  wistfully 
After  the  flock  of  steeples  he  might  spy 
In  Este*s  time,  gone  (doubts  he)  long  ago 
To  mend  the  ramparts — sure  the  laggards  know 
The  Pope 's  as  good  as  here  !    They  paced  the  streets 
More  soberly.     At  last,  Taurello  greets 
The  League,  announced  a  pursuivant, — will  match 
Its  courtesy,  and  labours  to  despatch 

K   2 


130  SORDELLO. 


BOOK  THE  FOURTH. 


Meantime  Ferrara  lay  in  rueful  case ; 

The  lady- city,  for  whose  sole  embrace 

Her  pair  of  suitors  struggled,  felt  their  arms 

A  brawny  mischief  to  the  fragile  charms 

Each  tugged  for — one  discovering  to  twist 

Her  tresses  twice  or  thrice  about  his  wrist 

Secured  a  point  of  vantage — one,  how  best 

He'd  parry  that  by  planting  in  her  breast 

His  elbow-spike — both  parties  too  intent 

For  noticing,  howe'er  the  battle  went. 

Its  conqueror  would  have  a  corpse  to  kiss. 

May  Boniface  be  duly  damned  for  this  ! 

Howled  some  old  Ghibellin  as  up  he  turned. 

From  the  wet  heap  of  rubbish  where  they  burned 

His  house,  a  little  scull  with  dazzling  teeth  : 

A  boon,  sweet  Christ — let  Salinguerra  seethe 


SORDELLO.  131 

In  hell  for  ever,  Christ,  and  let  myself 

Be  there  to  laugh  at  him  !  moaned  some  young  Guelf 

Stumbling  upon  a  shrivelled  hand  nailed  fast 

To  the  charred  lintel  of  the  doorway  Tast 

His  father  stood  v^ithin  to  bid  him  speed. 

The  thoroughfares  looked  overrun  vv^ith  weed 

—Docks,  quitchgrass,  loathly  mallows  no  man  plants. 

The  stranger  none  of  its  inhabitants 
Crept  out  of  doors  to  taste  fresh  air  again. 
Or  ask  the  purpose  of  a  sumptuous  train 
Admitted  on  a  morning ;  every  town 
Of  the  East  League  was  come  by  envoy  down 
To  treat  for  Richard's  ransom :  here  you  saw 
The  Yicentine,  here  snowy  oxen  draw 
The  Paduan  carroch,  its  vermilion  cross 
On  its  white  field  :  a-tiptoe  o*er  the  fosse 
Looked  Legate  Montelungo  wistfully 
After  the  flock  of  steeples  he  might  spy 
In  Este*s  time,  gone  (doubts  he)  long  ago 
To  mend  the  ramparts — sure  the  laggards  know 
The  Pope 's  as  good  as  here  !    They  paced  the  streets 
More  soberly.     At  last,  Taurello  greets 
The  League,  announced  a  pursuivant, — will  match 
Its  courtesy,  and  labours  to  despatch 
K  2 


132  SORDELLO. 

At  earliest  Tito,  Friedrich*s  Pretor,  sent 
On  pressing  matters  from  his  post  at  Trent 
With  Mainard  Count  of  Tyrol,— simply  waits 
Their  going  to  receive  the  delegates. 
Tito  !  Our  delegates  exchanged  a  glance. 
And,  keeping  the  main  way,  admired  askance 
The  lazy  engines  of  outlandish  birth 
Couched  like  a  king  each  on  its  bank  of  earth— 
Arbalist,  manganel,  and  catapult  ; 
While  stationed  by,  as  waiting  a  result. 
Lean  silent  gangs  of  mercenaries  ceased 
Working  to  watch  the  strangers — this,  at  least, 
Were  better  spared  ;    he  scarce  presumes  gainsay 
The  League's  decision  !     Get  our  friend  away 
And  profit  for  the  future  :  how  else  teach 
Azzo  'tis  not  so  safe  within  claw's  reach 
Till  Salinguerra's  final  gasp  be  blown  ? 
Those  mere  convulsive  scratches  find  the  bone 
— Who  bade  him  bloody  the  spent  osprey's  nare  ? 

The  carrochs  halted  in  the  public  square. 
Pennons  of  every  blazon  once  a-flaunt. 
Men  prattled,  freelier  that  the  crested  gaunt 
White  ostrich  with  a  horse- shoe  in  her  beak 
Was  missing  ;  whosoever  chose  might  speak 


SORDELLO.  133 

Ecdin  boldly  out:  so,  Ecelin 

Needed  his  wife  to  swallow  half  the  sin 

And  sickens  by  himself :  the  devil's  whelp 

He  styles  his  son  dwindles  away,  no  help 

From  conserves,  your  fine  triple-curded  froth 

Of  virgin's  blood,  your  Venice  viper-broth — 

Eh  ?  Jubilate  !     Tush  !  no  little  word 

You  utter  here  that's  not  distinctly  heard 

At  Oliero  :  he  was  absent  sick 

When  we  besieged  Bassano — who  i'  the  thick 

O'  the  work  perceived  the  progress  Azzo  made 

Like  Ecelin  ?  through  his  witch  Adelaide 

Who  managed  it  so  well  that  night  by  night 

At  their  bed-foot  stood  up  a  soldier-sprite 

First  fresh,  pale  by-and-by  without  a  wound, 

And  w4ien  he  came  with  eyes  filmed  as  in  s wound 

They  knew  the  place  was  taken — Ominous 

Your  Ghibellin  should  get  what  cautelous 

Old  Redbeard  sought  from  Azzo's  sire  to  wrench 

Vainly  ;  St.  George  contrived  his  town  a  trench 

O'  the  marshes,  an  impermeable  bar ; 

Young  Ecelin  is  meant  the  tutelar 

Of  Padua  rather  ;  veins  embrace  upon 

His  hand  like  Brenta  and  Bacchiglion  .  ,  . 


134  SORDELLO. 

What  now  ?    The  founts  !    God's  bread,  touch  not  a 

A  crawling  hell  of  carrion — every  tank  [plank  ! 

Choke  full !  found  out  just  now  to  Cino's  cost — 

The  same  who  gave  Taurello's  side  for  lost, 

And,  making  no  account  of  fortune's  freaks, 

Refused  to  budge  from  Padua  then,  but  sneaks 

Back  now  with  Concorezzi — ^'faith  !  they  drag 

Their  carroch  to  San  Vital,  plant  the  flag 

On  his  own  Palace  so  adroitly  razed 

He  knew  it  not ;  a  sort  of  Guelf  folk  gazed 

And  laughed  apart ;  Cino  disliked  their  air — 

Must  pluck  up  spirit,  show  he  does  not  care — 

Seats  himself  on  the  tank's  edge — will  begin 

To  hum,  za  za^  Cavaler  Ecelin — 

A  silence  ;  he  gets  warmer,  clinks  to  chime. 

Now  both  feet  plough  the  ground,  deeper  each  time. 

At  last,  za  za^  and  up  with  a  fierce  kick 

Comes  his  own  mother  s  face  caught  by  the  thick 

Grey  hair  about  his  spur  ! 

Which  means,  they  lift 
The  covering  Taurello  made  a  shift 
To  stretch  upon  the  truth  ;  as  well  avoid 
Further  disclosures  ;  leave  them  thus  employed. 
Our  dropping  Autumn  morning  clears  apace. 
And  poor  Ferrara  puts  a  softened  face 


SORDELLO.  135 

On  her  misfortunes,  save  one  spot — this  tall 

Huge  foursquare  line  of  red  brick  gar  den- wall 

Bastioned  within  by  trees  of  every  sort 

On  three  sides,  slender,  spreading,  long  and  short, 

(Each  grew  as  it  contrived,  the  poplar  ramped, 

The  fig-tree  reared  itself,)  but  stark  and  cramped, 

Made  fools  of ;  whence  upon  the  very  edge. 

Running  'twixt  trunk  and  trunk  to  smooth  one  ledge 

Of  shade,  are  shrubs  inserted,  warp  and  woof, 

Which  smother  up  that  variance.     Scale  the  roof 

Of  solid  tops  and  o'er  the  slope  you  slide 

Down  to  a  grassy  space  level  and  wide. 

Here  and  there  dotted  with  a  tree,  but  trees 

Of  rarer  leaf,  each  foreigner  at  ease, 

Set  by  itself ;  and  in  the  centre  spreads, 

Born  upon  three  uneasy  leopards'  heads, 

A  laver,  broad  and  shallow,  one  bright  spirt 

Of  water  bubbles  in :  the  walls  begirt 

With  trees  leave  off  on  either  hand  :  pursue 

Your  path  along  a  wondrous  avenue 

The  walls  abut  on,  heaped  of  gleamy  stone, 

With  aloes  leering  everywhere,  grey-grown 

From  many  a  Moorish  summer ;  how  they  wind 

Out  of  the  fissures  !  likelier  to  bind 


1^6  SORDELLO. 

The  building  than  those  rusted  cramps  which  drop 

Already  in  the  eating  sunshine.     Stop 

Yon  fleeting  shapes  above  there  !     Ah,  the  pride 

Or  else  despair  of  the  whole  country-side — 

A  range  of  statues,  swarming  o'er  with  wasps, 

God,  goddess,  woman,  man,  your  Greek  rough-rasps 

In  crumbling  Naples  marble  1  meant  to  look 

Like  those  Messina  marbles  Constance  took 

Delight  in,  or  Taurello's  self  conveyed 

To  Mantua  for  his  mistress,  Adelaide, 

A  certain  font  with  caryatides 

Since  cloistered  at  Goito  ;  only,  these 

Are  up  and  doing,  not  abashed,  a  troop 

Able  to  right  themselves — who  see  you,  stoop 

O'  the  instant  after  you  their  arms  !  unplucked 

By  this  or  that  you  pass,  for  they  conduct 

To  terrace  raised  on  terrace,  and,  between. 

Creatures  of  brighter  mould  and  braver  mien 

Than  any  yet,  the  choicest  of  the  Isle 

No  doubt ;  here,  left  a  sullen  breathing- while. 

Up-gathered  on  himself  the  Fighter  stood 

For  his  last  fight,  and,  wiping  treacherous  blood 

Out  of  the  eyelids  just  held  ope  beneath 

Those  shading  fi-ngers  in  their  iron  sheath ,. 


SORDELLO.  137 

Steadied  his  strengths  amid  the  buz  and  stir 

Of  a  dusk  hideous  amphitheatre 

At  the  announcement  of  his  over-match 

To  wind  the  day's  diversion  up,  despatch 

Their  pertinacious  friend :  while,  limbs  one  heap. 

The  Slave,  no  breath  in  her  round  mouth,  watched  leap 

Dart  after  dart  forth  as  her  hero's  car 

Clove  dizzily  the  solid  of  the  war 

— Let  coil  about  his  knees  for  pride  in  him. 

We  reach  the  farthest  terrace  and  the  grim 

San  Pietro  Palace  stops  us. 

Such  the  state 
Of  Salinguerra's  plan  to  emulate 
Sicilian  marvels  that  his  girlish  wife 
Retrude  still  might  lead  her  ancient  life 
In  her  new  home — whereat  enlarged  so  much 
Neighbours  upon  the  novel  princely  touch 
He  took  who  here  imprisons  Boniface. 
Here  must  the  Envoys  come  to  sue  for  grace ; 
And  here,  emerging  from  the  labyrinth 
Below,  two  minstrels  pause  beside  the  plinth 
Of  the  door-pillar. 

One  had  really  left 
Yerona  for  the  cornfields  (a  poor  theft 


138  SORDELLO. 

From  the  morass)  where  Este's  camp  was  made, 

The  Envoys'  march,  the  Legate's  cavalcade — 

Looked  cursorily  o'er,  but  scarce  as  when, 

Eager  for  cause  to  stand  aloof  from  men 

At  every  point  save  the  fantastic  tie 

Acknowledged  in  his  boyish  sophistry. 

He  made  account  of  such.     A  crowd  ;  he  meant 

To  task  the  whole  of  it ;  each  part's  intent 

Concerned  him  therefore,  and  the  more  he  pried 

The  less  became  Sordello  satisfied 

With  his  own  figure  at  the  moment.     Sought 

He  respite  from  his  task  ?  descried  he  aught 

Novel  in  the  anticipated  sight 

Of  all  those  livers  upon  all  delight  ? 

A  phalanx  as  of  myriad  points  combined 

Whereby  he  still  had  imaged  that  mankind 

His  youth  was  passed  in  dreams  of  rivalling, 

His  age — in  plans  to  show  at  least  the  thing 

So  dreamed,  but  now  he  hastened  to  impress 

With  his  own  will,  effect  a  happiness 

From  theirs,  supply  a  body  to  his  soul 

Thence,  and  become  eventually  whole 

With  them  as  he  had  hoped  to  be  without — 

Made  these  the  mankind  he  was  mad  about  ? 


SORDELLO.  139 

Because  a  few  of  them  were  notable 

Must  all  be  figured  worthy  note  ?     As  well 

Expect  to  find  Taurello's  triple  line 

Of  trees  a  single  and  prodigious  pine. 

Real  pines  rose  here  and  there,  but,  close  among, 

Thrust  into  and  mixed  up  with  pines,  a  throng 

Of  shrubs  you  saw,  a  nameless  common  sort 

O'erpast  in  dreams,  left  out  of  the  report, 

Fast  hurried  into  corners,  or  at  best 

Admitted  to  be  fancied  like  the  rest. 

Reckon  that  morning's  proper  chiefs  ;  how  few! 

And  yet  the  people  grew,  the  people  grew, 

Grew  ever,  as  with  many  there  indeed, 

More  left  behind  and  most  who  should  succeed. 

Simply  in  virtue  of  their  faces,  eyes. 

Petty  enjoyments  and  huge  miseries. 

Were  veritably  mingled  with,  made  great 

Those  chiefs  :  no  overlooking  Mainard's  state 

Nor  Concorezzi's  station,  but  instead 

Of  stopping  there,  each  dwindled  to  be  head 

Of  infinite  and  absent  Tyrolese 

Or  Paduans ;  startling  too  the  more  that  these 

Seemed  passive  and  disposed  of,  uncared  for. 

Yet  doubtless  on  the  whole  (quoth  Eglamor) 


140  SORDELLO. 

Smiling — for  if  a  wealthy  man  decays 

And  out  of  store  of  such  must  wear  all  days 

One  tattered  suit  alike  in  sun  and  shade, 

*Tis  commonly  some  tarnished  fine  brocade 

Fit  for  a  feast-night's  flourish  and  no  more  ; 

Nor  otherwise  poor  Misery  from  her  store 

Of  looks  is  fain  upgather,  keep  unfurled 

For  common  wear  as  she  goes  through  the  world 

The  faint  remainder  of  some  worn-out  smile 

Meant  for  a  feast-night's  service  merely.     While 

Crowd  upon  crowd  rose  on  Sordello  thus, — 

Crowds  no  way  interfering  to  discuss 

Much  less  dispute  life's  joys  with  one  employed 

In  envying  them,  or,  if  they  enjoyed. 

There  lingered  somewhat  indefinable 

In  every  look  and  tone,  the  mirth  as  well 

As  woe,  that  fixed  at  once  his  estimate 

Of  the  result,  their  good  or  ba^i  estate, — 

Old  memories  flocked  but  with  a  new  efibct : 

And  the  new  body,  ere  he  could  suspect. 

Cohered,  mankind  and  he  were  really  fused. 

The  new  self  seemed  impatient  to  be  used 

By  him,  but  utterly  another  way 

To  that  anticipated  :  strange  to  say, 


I 


SORDELLO.  141 

They  were  too  much  below  him,  more  in  thrall 

Than  he,  the  adjunct  than  the  principal. 

What  booted  scattered  brilliances  ?  the  mind 

Of  any  number  he  might  hope  to  bind 

And  stamp  with  his  own  thought,  howe'er  august, 

If  all  the  rest  should  grovel  in  the  dust  ? 

No  :  first  a  mighty  equilibrium  sure 

To  be  established,  privilege  procure 

For  them  himself  had  long  possessed  1  he  felt 

An  error,  an  exceeding  error  melt— - 

While  he  was  occupied  with  Mantuan  chants 

Behoved  him  think  of  men  and  of  their  wants 

Such  as  he  now  distinguished  every  side. 

As  his  own  want  that  might  be  satisfied. 

And,  after  that,  of  wondrous  qualities 

Of  his  own  soul  demanding  exercise. 

And  like  demand  it  longer  :  nor  a  claim 

On  their  part,  nor  was  virtue  in  the  aim 

At  serving  them  on  his,  but,  past  retrieve, 

He  in  their  toils  felt  with  them,  nor  could  leave, 

Wonder  that  in  the  eagerness  to  rule, 

Impress  his  will  upon  them,  he  the  fool 

Had  never  entertained  the  obvious  thought 

This  last  of  his  arrangements  would  be  fraught 


142  SORDELLO. 

With  good  to  them  as  well,  and  he  should  be 

Rejoiced  thereat ;  and  if,  as  formerly. 

He  sighed  the  merry  time  of  life  must  fleet, 

'Twas  deeplier  now,  for  could  the  crowds  repeat 

Their  poor  experiences  ?     His  hand  that  shook 

Was  twice  to  be  deplored.     The  Legate,  look  ! 

With  eyes,  like  fresh-blown  thrush-eggs  on  a  thread, 

Faint-blue  and  loosely  floating  in  his  head, 

Large  tongue,  moist  open  mouth ;  and  this  long  while 

That  owner  of  the  idiotic  smile 

Serves  them !     He  fortunately  saw  in  time 

His  fault  however,  and  the  office  prime 

Includes  the  secondary — best  accept 

Both  offices ;  Taurello  its  adept 

Could  teach  him  the  preparatory  one. 

And  how  to  do  what  he  had  fancied  done 

Long  previously,  ere  take  the  greater  task. 

How  render  then  these  people  happy  ?  ask 

The  people's  friends :  for  there  must  be  one  good, 

One  way  to  it — the  Cause !  he  understood 

The  meaning  now  of  Palma ;  else  why  are 

The  great  ado,  the  trouble  wide  and  far. 

These  Guelfs  and  Ghibellins,  the  Lombard's  hope 

Or  its  despair !  'twixt  Emperor  or  Pope 


SORDELLO.  143 

The  confused  shifting  sort  of  Eden  tale — 

Of  hardihood  recurring  still  to  fail — 

That  foreign  interloping  fiend,  this  free 

And  native  overbrooding  Deity — 

Yet  a  dire  fascination  o'er  the  palms 

His  presence  ruined  troubling  thorough  calms 

Of  Paradise — or,  on  the  other  hand, 

The  Pontiff,  as  your  Kaisers  understand, 

That,  snake-like  cursed  of  God  to  love  the  ground. 

With  lulling  eye  breaks  in  the  noon  profound 

Some  saving  tree — who  but  the  Kaiser  drest 

As  the  dislodging  angel  of  the  pest 

Then  ?  yet  that  pest  bedropt,  flat  head,  full  fold, 

With  coruscating  dower  of  dyes ;  behold 

The  secret,  so  to  speak,  and  master-spring 

Of  the  whole  contest !  which  of  them  shall  bring 

Men  good — perchance  the  most  good — ay,  it  may 

Be  that ;  the  question  is  which  knows  the  way. 

And  hereupon  Count  Mainard  strutted  past 
Out  of  San  Pietro  ;  never  looked  the  last 
Of  archers,  slingers ;  and  our  friend  began 
To  recollect  strange  modes  of  serving  man — 
Arbalist,  catapult,  brake,  manganel. 
And  more  :  this  way  of  theirs  may,  who  can  tell, 


144  BORDELLO. 

Need  perfecting,  said  he :  all's  better  solved 
At  once  :  Taurello  'twas  the  task  devolved 
On  late— -confront  Taurello  ! 

And  at  last 
They  did  confront  him.     Scarcely  an  hour  past 
When  forth  Sordello  came,  older  by  years 
Than  at  his  entry.     Unexampled  fears 
Oppressed  him,  and  he  staggered  off,  blind,  mute 
And  deaf,  like  some  fresh-mutilated  brute. 
Into  Ferrara — not  the  empty  tov^n 
That  morning  witnessed :  he  w^ent  up  and  down 
Streets  whence  the  veil  was  stripped  shred  after  shred. 
So  that  in  place  of  huddling  with  their  dead 
Indoors  to  answer  Salinguerra*s  ends, 
Its  folk  made  shift  to  crawl  and  sit  like  friends 
With  any  one.     A  woman  gave  him  choice 
Of  her  two  dauo^hters,  the  infantile  voice 
Or  dimpled  knee,  for  half  a  chain  his  throat 
Was  clasped  with ;  but  an  archer  knew  the  coat — 
Its  blue  cross  and  eight  lilies,  bade  beware 
One  dogging  him  in  concert  with  the  pair 
Though  thrumming  on  the  sleeve  that  hid  his  knife. 
Night  set  in  early,  autumn  dews  fell  rife, 
And  fires  were  kindled  while  the  Leaguer  s  mass 
Began  at  every  carroch — he  must  pass 


SORDELLO.  145 

Between  that  kneeling  people  :  presently 

The  carroch  of  Yerona  caught  his  eye 

With  purple  trappings  ;  silently  he  bent 

Over  its  fire,  when  voices  violent 

Began,  Afiirm  not  whom  the  youth  was  like 

That,  striking  from  the  porch,  I  did  not  strike 

Again ;  I  too  have  chesnut  hair ;  my  kin 

Hate  Azzo  and  stand  up  for  Ecelin ; 

Here,  minstrel,  drive  bad  thoughts  away;  sing;  take 

My  glove  for  guerdon  I  and  for  that  man's  sake 

He  turned :  A  song  of  Eglamor's  !  scarce  named. 

When,  Our  Sordello's,  rather  !  all  exclaimed ; 

Is  not  Sordello  famousest  for  rhyme  ? 

He  had  been  happy  to  deny,  this  time ; 

Profess  as  heretofore  the  aching  head, 

The  failing  heart ;  suspect  that  in  his  stead 

Some  true  Apollo  had  the  charge  of  them. 

Was  champion  to  reward  or  to  condemn 

So  his  intolerable  risk  might  shift 

Or  share  itself ;  but  Naddo's  precious  gift 

Of  gifts  returned,  be  certain  !  at  the  close — 

I  made  that,  said  he  to  a  youth  who  rose 

As  if  to  hear :  'twas  Palma  through  the  band 

Conducted  him  in  silence  by  the  hand. 


146  SORDELLO. 

Back  now  for  Salinguerra.     Tito  of  Trent 
Gave  place,  remember,  to  the  pair ;  who  went 
In  turn  at  Montelungo's  visit — one 
After  the  other  are  they  come  and  gone. 
A  drear  vast  presence-chamber  roughly  set 
In  order  for  this  morning's  use ;  you  met 
The  grim  black  twy-necked  eagle,  coarsely  blacked 
AYith  ochre  on  the  naked  walls,  nor  lacked 
There  green  and  yellow  tokens  either  side ; 
But  the  new  symbol  Tito  brought  had  tried 
The  Legate's  patience — nay,  if  Palma  knew 
What  Salinguerra  almost  meant  to  do 
Until  the  sight  of  her  restored  his  lip 
A  certain  half- smile  three  months'  chieftainship 
Had  banished  ?     Afterward  the  Legate  found 
No  change  in  him,  nor  asked  what  badge  he  wound 
And  unwound  carelessly !     Now  sate  the  Chief 
Silent  as  when  our  couple  left  whose  brief 
Encounter  wrought  so  opportune  effect 
In  thoughts  he  summoned  not,  nor  would  reject — 
Though  time,  if  ever,  'twas  to  pause  now — fix 
On  any  sort  of  ending  :  wiles  and  tricks 
Exhausted,  judge  1  his  charge,  the  crazy  town, 
Just  managed  to  be  hindered  crashing  down — 


SORDELLO.  147 

His  last  sound  troops  ranged — care  observed  to  post 
His  last  of  the  maimed  soldiers  innermost — 
So  much  was  plain  enough,  but  somehow  struck 
Him  not  before :  and  now  with  this  strange  luck 
Of  Tito's  news,  rewarding  his  address 
So  well,  what  thought  he  of?     How  the  success 
With  Friedrich's  rescript  there  would  either  hush 
Ecelin's  fiercest  scruple  up,  or  flush 
Young  Ecelin  s  white  cheek,  or,  last,  exempt 
Himself  from  telling  what  there  was  to  tempt  ? 
No  :  that  this  minstrel  was  Romano's  last 
Servant — himself  the  first !     Could  he  contrast 
The  whole  !  that  minstrel's  thirty  autumns  spent 
In  doing  nought,  his  notablest  event 
This  morning's  journey  hither,  as  we  told — 
Who  yet  was  lean,  outworn  and  really  old, 
A  stammering  awkward  youth  (scarce  dared  he  raise 
His  eye  before  that  magisterial  gaze) 
— And  Salinguerra  with  his  fears  and  hopes 
Of  sixty  years,  his  Emperors  and  Popes, 
Cares  and  contrivances,  yet  you  would  say 
A  youth  'twas  nonchalantly  looked  away 
Through  the  embrasure  northward  o'er  the  sick 
Expostulating  trees — so  agile  quick 
l2 


148  .  SORDELLO. 

And  graceful  turned  the  head  on  the  broad  chest 
Encased  in  pliant  steel,  his  constant  vest, 
Whence  split  thesun  off  in  a  spray  of  fire 
Across  the  room  ;  and,  loosened  of  its  tire 
Of  steel,  that  head  let  see  the  comely  brown 
Large  massive  locks  discoloured  as  a  crown 
Encircled  them,  so  frayed  the  basnet  where 
A  sharp  white  line  divided  clean  the  hair ; 
Glossy  above,  glossy  below,  it  swept 
Curling  and  fine  about  a  brow  thus  kept 
Calm,  laid  coat  upon  coat,  marble  and  sound : 
This  was  the  mystic  mark  the  Tuscan  found. 
Mused  of,  turned  over  books  about.     Square-faced, 
No  lion  more  ;  two  vivid  eyes,  enchased 
In  hollows  filled  with  many  a  shade  and  streak 
Settling  from  the  bold  nose  and  bearded  cheek  ; 
Nor  might  the  half- smile  reach  them  that  deformed 
A  lip  supremely  perfect  else — unwarmed, 
Unwidened,  less  or  more ;  indifferent 
Whether  on  trees  or  men  his  thoughts  were  bent — 
Thoughts  rarely,  after  all,  in  trim  and  train 
As  now  :  a  period  was  fulfilled  again  ; 
Such  in  a  series  made  his  life,  compressed 
In  each,  one  story  serving  for  the  rest — 


SORDELLO.  149 

Therefore  he  smiled.   Beyond  stretched  garden-grounds 
Where  late  the  adversary,  breaking  bounds, 
Procured  him  an  occasion  That  above. 
That  eagle,  testified  he  could  improve 
Effectually  ;  the  Kaiser  s  symbol  lay 
Beside  his  rescript,  a  new  badge  by  way 
Of  baldric  ;  while  another  thing  that  marred 
Alike  emprize,  achievement  and  reward, 
Ecelin  s  missive  was  conspicuous  too. 

What  a  past  life  those  flying  thoughts  pursue  ! 
As  his  no  name  in  Mantua  half  so  old  ; 
But  at  Ferrara,  where  his  sires  enrolled 
It  latterly,  the  Adelardi  spared 
Few  means  to  rival  them  :  both  factions  shared 
Ferrara,  so  that,  counted  out,  't  would  yield 
A  product  very  like  the  city's  shield, 
Half  black  and  white,  or  Ghibelin  and  Guelf, 
As  after  Salinguerra  styled  himself 
And  Este  who,  till  Marchesalla  died 
— Last  of  the  Adelardi,  never  tried 
His  fortune  there  ;  but  Marchesalla's  child 
Transmits  (can  Blacks  and  Whites  be  reconciled 
And  young  Taurello  wed  Linguetta)  wealth 
And  sway  to  a  sole  grasp  :  each  treats  by  stealth 


150  SORDELLO. 

Already  :  when  the  Guelfs,  the  Ravennese 

Arrive,  assault  the  Pietro  quarter,  seize 

Linguetta,  and  are  gone  !     Our  first  dismay 

Abated  somewhat,  hurries  down  to  lay 

The  after  indignation  Boniface, 

No  meaner  spokesman  :  Learn  the  full  disgrace 

Averted  ere  you  blame  us — wont  to  rate 

Your  Salinguerra,  and  sole  potentate 

That  might  have  been,  'mongst  Este's  valvassors- 

Ay,  Azzo's — who,  not  privy  to,  abhors 

Our  step — but  we  were  zealous.     Azzo  's  then 

To  do  with !     Straight  a  meeting  of  old  men  : 

The  Lombard  Eagle  of  the  azure  sphere 

With  Italy  to  build  in,  builds  he  here  ? 

This  deemed— the  other  owned  upon  advice — 

A  third  reflected  on  the  matter  twice — 

In  fine,  young  Salinguerra's  staunchest  friends 

Talked  of  the  townsmen  making  him  amends. 

Gave  him  a  goshawk,  and  affirmed  there  was 

Rare  sport,  one  morning,  over  the  morass 

A  mile  or  so.     He  sauntered  through  the  plain, 

Was  restless,  fell  to  thinking,  turned  again 

In  time  for  Azzo's  entry  with  the  bride  ; 

Count  Boniface  rode  smirking  at  his  side ; 


SORDELLO.  151 

There's  half  Ferrara  with  her,  whispers  flew, 
And  all  Ancona  !     If  the  stripling  knew  ! 

Anon  the  stripling  was  in  Sicily 
Where  Heinrich  ruled  in  right  of  Constance ;  he 
Was  gracious  nor  his  guest  incapable  ; 
Each  understood  the  other.     So  it  fell, 
One  Spring,  when  Azzo,  thoroughly  at  ease, 
Had  near  forgotten  what  precise  degrees 
He  crept  by  into  such  a  downy  seat, 
Over  the  Count  trudged  in  a  special  heat 
To  bid  him  of  God's  love  dislodge  from  each 
Of  Salinguerra's  Palaces  ;  a  breach 
Might  yawn  else  not  so  readily  to  shut, 
For  who  was  just  arrived  at  Mantua  but 
The  youngster,  sword  to  thigh,  tuft  upon  chin, 
With  tokens  for  Celano,  Ecelin, 
Pistore  and  the  like !     Next  news  :  no  whit 
Do  any  of  Ferrara's  domes  befit 
His  wife  of  Heinrich's  very  blood  :  a  band 
Of  foreigners  assemble,  understand 
Garden-constructing,  level  and  surround, 
Build  up  and  bury  in.     A  last  news  crowned 
The  consternation :  since  his  infant's  birth 
He  only  waits  they  end  his  wondrous  girth 


152  SORDELLO. 

Of  trees  that  link  San  Pietro  with  Toma 
To  visit  us.     When,  as  its  Podesta 
Regaled  him  at  Yicenza,  Este,  there 
With  Boniface  beforehand,  each  aware 
Of  plots  in  progress,  gave  alarm,  expelled 
A  party  which  abetted  him,  but  yelled 
Too  hastily.     The  burning  and  the  flight. 
And  how  Taurello,  occupied  that  night 
With  Ecelin,  lost  wife  and  son,  were  told  : 
— Not  how  he  bore  the  blow,  retained  his  hold, 
Got  friends  safe  through,  left  enemies  the  worst 
O*  the  fray,  and  hardly  seemed  to  care  at  first — 
But  afterward  you  heard  not  constantly 
Of  Salinguerra's  House  so  sure  to  be  ! 
Though  Azzo  simply  gained  by  the  event 
A  shifting  of  his  plagues — this  one  content 
To  fall  behind  the  other  and  estrange, 
You  will  not  say,  his  nature,  but  so  change 
That  in  Romano  sought  he  wife  and  child, 
And  for  Romano's  sake  was  reconciled 
To  losing  individual  life,  deep  sunk, 
A  very  pollard  mortised  in  a  trunk 
Which  Arabs  out  of  wantonness  contrive 
Shall  dwindle  that  the  alien  stock  may  thrive 


SORDELLO.  153 

Till  forth  that  vine-palm  feathers  to  the  root 

And  red  drops  moisten  them  its  arid  fruit. 

Once  set  on  Adelaide,  the  subtle  mate 

And  wholly  at  his  beck,  to  emulate 

The  Churches  valiant  women  deed  for  deed, 

To  paragon  her  namesake,  win  the  meed 

Of  its  Matilda,-^and  they  overbore 

The  rest  of  Lombardy — not  as  before 

By  an  instinctive  truculence,  but  patched 

The  Kaiser  s  strategy  until  it  matched 

The  Pontiff's,  sought  old  ends  by  novel  means  : 

Only,  Romano  Salinguerra  screens. 

Heinrich  was  somewhat  of  the  tardiest 

To  comprehend,  nor  Philip  acquiesced 

At  once  in  the  arrangement ;  reasoned,  plied 

His  friend  with  offers  of  another  bride, 

A  statelier  function — fruitlessly  :  'tis  plain     » 

Taurello's  somehow  one  to  let  remain 

Obscure  ;  and  Otho,  free  to  judge  of  both, 

— Ecelin  the  unready,  harsh  and  loth, 

And  this  more  plausible  and  facile  wight 

With  every  point  a-sparkle — chose  the  right. 

Admiring  how  his  predecessors  harped 

On  the  wrong  man :  thus,  quoth  he,  wits  are  warped 


I. 


154  SORDELLO. 

By  outsides !     Carelessly,  withal,  his  life 

Suffered  its  many  turns  of  peace  and  strife 

In  many  lands — you  hardly  could  surprise 

A  man  who  shamed  Sordello  (recognise) 

In  this  as  much  beside,  that,  unconcerned 

What  qualities  are  natural  or  earned. 

With  no  ideal  of  graces,  as  they  came 

He  took  them,  singularly  well  the  same — 

Speaking  a  dozen  languages  because 

Your  Greek  eludes  you,  leave  the  least  of  flaws 

In  contracts,  while,  through  Arab  lore,  deter 

Who  may  the  Tuscan,  once  Jove  trined  for  her. 

From  Friedrich's  path  !  Friedrich,  whose  pilgrimage 

The  same  man  puts  aside,  whom  he  '11  engage 

To  leave  next  year  John  Brienne  in  the  lurch, 

And  see  Bassano  for  Saint  Francis'  church 

— Profound  on  Guide  the  Bolognian  s  piece 

That,  if  you  lend  him  credit,  rivals  Greece — 

Angels,  with  aureoles  like  golden  quoits 

Pitched  home,  applauding  Ecelin  s  exploits 

In  Painimrie.     He  strung  the  angelot ; 

Made  rhymes  thereto ;  for  prowess,  clove  he  not 

Tiso,  last  siege,  from  crest  to  crupper  ?  why 

Detail  you  thus  a  varied  mastery 


SORDELLO.  155 

But  that  Taurello,  ever  on  the  watch 
For  men,  to  read  their  hearts  and  thereby  catch 
Their  capabilities  and  purposes, 
Displayed  himself  so  far  as  displayed  these  : 
While  our  Sordello  only  cared  to  know- 
About  men  as  a  means  for  him  to  show 
Himself,  and  men  were  much  or  little  worth 
According  as  they  kept  in  or  drew  forth 
That  self;  the  other's  choicest  instruments 
Surmised  him  shallow.     Meantime  malecontents 
Dropped  off,  town  after  town  grew  wiser  ;  how 
Change  the  world's  face  ?  said  people  ;  as  'tis  now 
It  has  been,  will  be  ever  :  very  fine 
Subjecting  things  profane  to  things  divine 
In  talk  :  this  contumacy  will  fatigue 
The  vigilance  of  Este  and  the  League, 
Observe  !  accordingly,  their  basement  sapped, 
Azzo  and  Boniface  were  soon  entrapped 
By  Ponte  Alto,  and  in  one  month's  space 
Slept  at  Yerona  :  either  left  a  brace 
Of  sons — so  three  years  after,  cither's  pair 
Lost  Guglielm  and  Aldobrand  its  heir : 
Azzo  remained  and  Richard — all  the  stay 
Of  Este  and  St.  Boniface,  at  bay 


156  BORDELLO. 

As  'twere ;  when  either  Ecelin  grew  old 

Or  his  brain  altered — not  the  proper  mould 

For  new  appliances — his  old  palm  stock 

Endured  no  influx  of  strange  strengths  :  he'd  rock 

As  in  a  drunkenness,  or  chuckle  low 

As  proud  of  the  completeness  of  his  woe, 

Then   weep — real  tears  !      Now  make   some   mad 

On  Este,  heedless  of  the  lesson  taught        [^onslaught 

So  painfully — now  cringe,  sue  peace,  but  peace 

At  price  of  all  advantage ;  therefore  cease 

The  fortunes  of  Romano  !     Up  at  last 

Rose  Este  and  Romano  sank  as  fast. 

And  men  remarked  this  sort  of  peace  and  war 

Commenced  while  Salinguerra  was  afar  : 

And  every  friend  besought  him,  but  in  vain, 

To  wait  his  old  adherent,  call  again 

Taurello  :  not  he — who  had  daughters,  sons, 

Could  plot  himself,  nor  needed  any  one's 

Advice.     'Twas  Adelaide's  remaining  staunch 

Prevented  his  destruction  root  and  branch 

Forthwith  ;  Goito  green  above  her,  gay 

He  made  alliances,  gave  lands  away 

To  whom  it  pleased  accept  them,  and  withdrew 

For  ever  from  the  world.     Taurello,  who 


SORDELLO.  157 

Was  summoned  to  the  convent,  then  refused 
A  word, — however  patient,  thus  abused, 
At  Este's  mercy  through  his  imbecile 
Ally,  was  fain  dismiss  the  foolish  smile, 
And  a  few  movements  of  the  happier  sort 
.  Changed  matters,  put  himself  in  men  s  report 
As  heretofore  ;  he  had  to  fight,  beside. 
And  that  became  him  ever.     So  in  pride 
.  And  flushing  of  this  kind  of  second  youth 
He  dealt  a  good- will  blow :  Este  in  truth 
Was  prone — and  you  remembered,  somewhat  late, 
A  laughing  old  outrageous  stifled  hate 
He  bore  that  Este — how  it  would  outbreak 
At  times  spite  of  disguise,  like  an  earthquake 
In  sunny  weather — as  that  noted  day 
When  with  his  hundred  friends  he  ofibred  slay 
Azzo  before  the  Kaiser's  face :  and  how 
On  Azzo's  calm  refusal  to  allow 
A  liegeman's  challenge  straight  he  too  was  calmed  : 
His  hate,  no  doubt,  would  bear  to  lie  embalmed. 
Bricked  up,  the  moody  Pharaoh,  to  survive 
All  intermediate  crumblings,  be  alive 
At  earth's  catastrophe — 'twas  Este's  crash 
Not  Azzo's  he  demanded,  so  no  rash 


158  SORDELLO. 

Procedure  !     Este's  true  antagonist 
Eose  out  of  Ecelin  :  all  voices  whist, 
Each  glance  was  sharpened,  wit  predicted.     He 
Twas  leaned  in  the  embrasure  presently. 
Amused  with  his  own  efforts,  now,  to  trace 
With  his  steel- sheathed  forefinger  Friedrich's  face 
I'  the  dust :  and  as  the  trees  waved  sere,  his  smile 
Deepened,  and  words  expressed  its  thought  erewhile. 

Ay,  fairly  housed  at  last,  my  old  compeer  ? 
That  we  should  stick  together  all  the  year 
I  kept  Yerona  ! — How  old  Boniface, 
Old  Azzo  caught  us  in  its  market-place, 
He  by  that  pillar,  I  this  pillar,  each 
In  mid  swing,  more  than  fury  of  his  speech. 
Egging  our  rabble  on  to  disavow 
Allegiance  to  the  Marquis — Ba^cchus,  how 
They  caught  us  !  Ecelin  must  turn  their  drudge ; 
Nor,  if  released,  will  Salinguerra  grudge 
Paying  arrears  of  tribute  due  long  since — 
Bacchus  !     My  man,  could  promise  then,  nor  wince. 
The  bones-and-muscles  !  sound  of  wind  and  limb, 
Spoke  he  the  set  excuse  I  framed  for  him ; 
And  now  he  sits  me,  slavering  and  mute. 
Intent  on  chafing  each  starved  purple  foot 


SORDELLO.  159 

Benumbed  past  aching  with  the  altar  slab — 

Will  no  vein  throb  there  when  some  monk  shall  blab 

Spitefully  to  the  cir^cle  of  bald  scalps 

"  Friedrich  's  affirmed  to  be  our  side  the  Alps" 

— Eh,  brother  Lactance,  brother  Anaclet  ? 

Sworn  to  abjure  the  world  and  the  world's  fret, 

God's  own  now  ?  drop  the  dormitory  bar, 

Enfold  the  scanty  grey  serge  scapular 

Twice  o'er  the  cowl  to  muffle  memories  out — 

So  !  but  the  midnight  whisper  turns  a  shout, 

Eyes  wink,  mouths  open,  pulses  circulate 

In  the  stone  walls :  the  past,  the  world  you  hate 

Is  with  you,  ambush,  open  field — or  see 

The  surging  flame — they  fire  Yicenza — glee  ! 

Follow,  let  Pilio  and  Bernard!  chafe — 

Bring  up  the  Mantuans — through  San  Biagio — safe ! 

Ah,  the  mad  people  waken  ?     Ah,  they  writhe 

And  reach  you  ?  if  they  block  the  gate — no  tithe 

Can  pass — keep  back  you  Bassanese  !  the  edge, 

Use  the  edge — shear,  thrust,  hew,  melt  down  the 

wedge, 
Let  out  the  black  of  those  black  upturned  eyes  ! 
Hell — are  they  sprinkling  fire  too  ?  the  blood  fries 
And  hisses  on  your  brass  gloves  as  they  tear 
Those  upturned  faces  choaking  with  despair. 


160  SORDELLO. 

Brave  !    Slidder  through  the  reeking  gate — how  now ! 
You  six  had  charge  of  her  ?     And  then  the  vow 
Comes,  and  the  foam  spirts,  hair 's  plucked,  till  one  shriek 
(I  hear  it)  and  you  fling — you  cannot  speak — 
Your  gold-flowered  basnet  to  a  man  who  haled 
The  Adelaide  he  dared  scarce  view  unveiled 
This  morn,  naked  across  the  fire  :  how  crown 
The  archer  that  exhausted  lays  you  down 
Your  infant,  smiling  at  the  flame,  and  dies  ? 
While  one,  while  mine  .  .  . 

Bacchus  !    I  think  there  lies 
More  than  one  corpse  there  (and  he  paced  the  room) 
— Another  cinder  somewhere — 'twas  my  doom 
Beside,  my  doom  :  if  Adelaide  is  dead 
I  am  the  same,  this  Azzo  lives  instead 
Of  that  to  me,  and  we  pull  any  how 
Este  into  a  heap — the  matter  s  now 
At  the  true  juncture  slipping  us  so  oft ; 
Ay,  Heinrich  died  and  Otho,  please  you,  dofibd 
His  crown  at  such  a  juncture  :  let  but  hold 
Our  Friedrich's  purpose,  let  this  chain  enfold 
The  neck  of  .  .  .  who  but  this  same  Ecelin  ? 
That  must  recoil  when  the  best  days  begin — 
Recoil  ?  that's  nought ;  so  the  recoiler  leaves 
His  name  for  me  to  fight  with,  no  one  grieves  ! 


SORDELLO.  161 

But  he  must  interfere,  forsooth,  unlock 

His  cloister  to  become  my  stumbling-block 

Just  as  of  old  !     Ay,  ay,  there  'tis  again — 

The  land's  inevitable  Head — explain 

The  reverences  that  subject  us  !     Count 

These  Ecelins  now  !  not  to  say  as  fount. 

Originating  power  of  thought,  from  twelve 

That  drop  i'  the  trenches  they  joined  hands  to  delve 

Six  shall  surpass  him,  but .  .  .  why,  men  must  twine 

Somehow  with  something  !     Ecelin  's  a  fine 

Clear  name!  Twere  simpler,  doubtless,  twine  with  me 

At  once  :  our  cloistered  friend's  capacity 

Was  of  a  sort !     I  had  to  share  myself 

In  fifty  portions,  like  an  o'ertasked  elf 

That's  forced  illume  in  fifty  points  the  vast 

Rare  vapour  he 's  environed  by :  at  last 

My  strengths,  though  sorely  frittered,  e'en  converge 

And  crown — no,  Bacchus,  they  have  yet  to  urge 

The  man  be  crowned  ! 

That  aloe,  an  he  durst, 
Would  climb  !  just  such  a  bloated  sprawler  first 
I  noted  in  Messina's  castle  court 
The  day  I  came,  and  Heinrich  asked  in  sport 
If  I  would  pledge  my  faith  to  win  him  back 
His  right  in  Lombardy  ;  for,  once  bid  pack 

M 


162  SORDELLO. 

Marauders,  he  continued,  in  my  stead 
You  rule,  Taurello  !  and  upon  this  head 
Laid  the  silk  glove  of  Constance — I  see  her 
Too,  mantled  head  to  foot  in  miniver, 
Eetrude  following ! 

I  am  absolved 
From  further  toil :  the  empery  devolved 
On  me,  'twas  Tito's  word  :  and  think,  to  lay 
For  once  my  plan,  pursue  my  plan  my  way. 
Prompt  nobody,  and  render  an  account 
Taurello  to  Taurello !  nay,  I  mount 
To  Friedrich — he  conceives  the  post  I  kept. 
Who  did  true  service,  able  or  inept. 
Who's  worthy  guerdon,  Ecelin  or  I  : 
Me  guerdoned,  counsel  follows ;  would  he  vie 
With  the  Pope  really  ?     Azzo,  Boniface 
Compose  a  right-arm  Hohenstauffen's  race 
Must  break  ere  govern  Lombardy ;  I  point 
How  easy  'twere  to  twist,  once  out  of  joint. 
The  socket  from  the  bone  ;  my  Azzo's  stare 
Meanwhile  !  for  I,  this  idle  strap  to  wear. 
Shall — fret  myself  abundantly,  what  end 
To  serve  ?     There's  left  me  tw^enty  years  to  spend 
— How  better  than  my  old  way  ?     Had  I  one 
Who  laboured  overthrow  my  work — a  son 


BORDELLO.  163 

Hatching  with  Azzo  superb  treachery, 
To  root  my  pines  up  and  then  poison  me, 
Suppose — 'twere  worth  while  frustrate  that !    Beside 
Another  life  's  ordained  me  :  the  world's  tide 
Rolls,  and  what  hope  of  parting  from  the  press 
Of  waves,  a  single  wave  through  weariness 
That's  gently  led  aside,  laid  upon  shore  ? 
My  life  must  be  lived  out  in  foam  and  roar, 
No  question.     Fifty  years  the  province  held 
Taurello  ;  troubles  raised,  and  troubles  quelled. 
He  in  the  midst — who  leaves  this  quaint  stone  place. 
Those  trees  a  year  or  two,  then,  not  a  trace 
Of  him  !     How  obtain  hold,  fetter  men  s  tongues 
Like  that  Sordello  with  his  foolish  songs — 
To  which,  despite  our  bustle,  he  is  linked  ? 
— Flowers  one  may  teaze,  that  never  seem  extinct ; 
Ay,  that  patch,  surely,  green  as  ever,  where 
I  set  Her  Moorish  lentisk,  by  the  stair. 
To  overawe  the  aloes — and  we  trod 
Those  flowers,  how  call  you  such  ?  into  the  sod  ; 
A  stately  foreigner — and  worlds  pf  pain 
To  make  it  thrive,  arrest  rough  winds — all  vain  ! 
It  would  decline — these  would  not  be  destroyed — 
And  now,  where  is  it — where  can  you  avoid 
M  2 


164  SORDELLO. 

The  flowers  ?  I  frighten  children  twenty  years 
Longer ! — which  way,  too,  Ecelin  appears 
To  thwart  me,  for  his  son  s  besotted  youth 
Gives  promise  of  the  proper  tiger-tooth, 
They  prattle,  at  Yicenza  !     Fate,  fate,  fate, 
My  fine  Taurello  !  go  you,  promulgate 
Friedrich*s  decree,  and  here's  shall  aggrandise 
Young  Ecelin — our  Prefect's  badge  !  a  prize 
Too  precious,  certainly. 

How  now  ?     Compete 
With  my  old  comrade  ?  shufl3^e  from  their  seat 
His  children  ?     Paltry  dealing !  don  t  I  know 
Ecelin  ?  now,  I  think,  and  years  ago ! 
What 's  changed — the  weakness?  did  not  I  compound 
For  that,  and  undertake  preserve  him  sound 
Despite  it  ?     Say  Taurello 's  hankering 
After  the  boy  s  preferment — this  play-thing 
To  carry,  Bacchus !     And  he  laughed. 

Remark 
Why  schemes  wherein  cold-blooded  men  embark 
Prosper,  when  your  enthusiastic  sort 
Fails  :  for  these  last  are  ever  stopping  short — 
(Much  to  be  done — so  little  they  can  do  !) 
The  careless  tribe  see  nothing  to  pursue 


SORDELLO.  165 

Should  they  desist ;  meantime  their  scheme  succeeds. 

Thoughts  were  caprices  in  the  course  of  deeds 
Methodic  with  Taurello  ;  so  he  turned, 
Enough  amused  by  fancies  fairly  earned 
Of  Este's  horror-struck  submitted  neck, 
And  Boniface  completely  at  his  beck, 
To  his  own  petty  but  immediate  doubt 
If  he  could  pacify  the  League  without 
Conceding  Richard ;  just  to  this  was  brought 
That  interval  of  vain  discursive  thought ! 
As,  shall  I  say,  some  Ethiop,  past  pursuit 
Of  all  enslavers,  dips  a  shackled  foot. 
Burnt  to  the  blood,  into  the  drowsy  black 
Enormous  water  current,  his  sole  track 
To  his  own  tribe  again,  where  he  is  King ; 
And  laughs  because  he  guesses,  numbering 
The  yellower  poison- wattles  on  the  pouch 
Of  the  first  lizard  wrested  from  its  coucli 
Under  the  slime  (whose  skin,  the  while,  he  strips 
To  cure  his  nostril  with,  and  festered  lips. 
And  eyeballs  bloodshot  through  the  desert  blast) 
That  he  has  reached  its  boundary,  at  last 
May  breathe; — thinks  o'er  enchantments  of  the  South 
Sovereign  to  plague  his  enemies,  their  mouth 


166  SORDELLO. 

And  nails,  and  hair  ;  but,  these  enchantments  tried 

In  fancy,  puts  them  soberly  aside 

For  truth,  cool  projects,  a  return  with  friends, 

The  likelihood  of  winning  wild  amends 

Ere  long ;  thinks  that,  takes  comfort  silently, 

And  from  the  river's  brink  his  wrongs  and  he, 

Hugging  revenge  close  to  their  hearts,  are  soon 

Off-striding  for  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon. 

Midnight :  the  watcher  nodded  on  his  spear, 
Since  clouds  dispersing  left  a  passage  clear, 
If  any  meagre  and  discoloured  moon 
Should  venture  forth  ;  and  such  was  peering  soon 
Above  the  harassed  city — her  close  lanes 
Closer,  not  half  so  tapering  her  fanes. 
As  though  she  shrunk  into  herself  to  keep 
What  little  life  was  saved  more  safely.     Heap 
By  heap  the  watch-fires  mouldered,  and  beside 
The  blackest  spoke  Sordello  and  replied 
Palma  with  none  to  listen.     Tis  your  Cause — 
What  makes  a  Ghibellin  ?     There  should  be  laws — 
(Remember  how  my  youth  escaped  !     I  trust 
To  you  for  manhood,  Palma  ;  tell  me  just 
As  any  child) — laws  secretly  at  work 
Explaining  this.     Assure  me  good  may  lurk 


SORDELLO.  167 

Under  the  bad  ;  my  multitude  has  part 
In  your  designs,  their  welfare  is  at  heart 
With  Salinguerra,  to  their  interest 
Refer  the  deeds  he  dwelt  on — so  divest 
Our  conference  of  much  that  scared  me  :  why 
Affect  that  heartless  tone  to  Tito  ?     I 
Esteemed  myself,  yes,  in  my  inmost  mind 
This  morn,  a  recreant  to  that  wide  mankind 
O'erlooked  till  now  :  why  boast  my  spirit's  force, 
— That  force  denied  its  object  ?  why  divorce 
These,  then  admire  my  spu-it's  flight  the  same, 
As  though  it  bore  a  burden,  which  could  tame 
No  pinion,  from  d^ead  void  to  living  space  ? 
— That  orb  consigned  to  chaos  and  disgrace. 
Why  vaunt  complacently  my  frantic  dance. 
Making  a  feat's  facilities  enhance 
The  marvel  ?     But  I  front  Taurello,  one 
Of  happier  fate,  and  what  I  should  have  done 
He  does  ;  the  multitude  aye  paramount 
With  him,  its  making  progress  may  account 
For  his  abiding  still :  when  .  .  .  but  you  heard 
His  talk  with  Tito — the  excuse  preferred 
For  burning  those  five  hostages — and  broached 
By  way  of  blind,  as  you  and  I  approached, 
I  do  believe. 


168  SORDELLO. 

She  spoke  :  then  he,  My  thought 
Plainer  expressed  !     All  Friedrich's  profit — nought 
Of  these  meantime,  of  conquests  to  achieve 
For  them,  of  wretchednesses  to  relieve 
While  profiting  that  Friedrich.     Azzo,  too. 
Supports  a  cause :  what  is  it  ?     Guelfs  pursue 
Their  ends  by  means  like  yours,  or  better  ? 

When 
The  Guelfs  were  shown  alike,  men  ranged  with  men, 
And  deed  with  deed,  blaze,  blood,  with  blood  and  blaze. 
Morn  broke :  once  more,  Sordello,  meet  its  gaze 
Proudly — the  people's  charge  against  thee  fails 
In  every  point,  while  either  party  quails ! 
These  are  the  busy  ones — be  silent  thou  ! 
Two  parties  take  the  world  up,  and  allow 
No  third,  yet  have  one  principle,  subsist 
By  the  same  method ;  whoso  shall  enlist 
With  either,  ranks  with  man's  inveterate  foes. 
So  there  is  one  less  quarrel  to  compose 
'Twixt  us  :  the  Guelf  's,  the  Ghibellin  's  to  curse  — 
I  have  done  nothing,  but  both  sides  do  worse 
Than  nothing ;  nay  to  me,  forgotten^  reft 
Of  insight,  lapped  by  trees  and  flowers,  was  left 
The  notion  of  a  service— ha  ?     What  lured 
Me  here,  what  mighty  aim  was  I  assured 


SORDELLO.  169 

Moved  Salinguerra  ?     If  a  Cause  remained 
Intact,  distinct  from  these,  and  fate  ordained, 
For  all  the  past,  that  Cause  for  me  ? 

One  pressed 
Before  them  here,  a  watcher,  to  suggest 
The  subject  for  a  ballad  :  he  must  know 
The  tale  of  the  dead  worthy,  long  ago 
Consul  of  Rome — that  's  long  ago  for  us. 
Minstrels  and  bowmen,  idly  squabbling  thus 
In  the  world's  corners — but  too  late,  no  doubt. 
For  the  brave  time  he  sought  to  bring  about 
— Not  know  Crescentius  Nomentanus  ?     Then 
He  cast  about  for  terms  to  tell  him,  when 
Sordello  disavowed  it,  how  they  used 
Whenever  their  Superior  introduced 
A  novice  to  the  Brotherhood  (for  I 
Was  just  a  brown-sleeve  brother,  merrily 
Appointed  too,  quoth  he,  till  Innocent 
Bade  me  relinquish,  to  my  small  content, 
My  wife  or  my  brown  sleeves)  out  some  one  spoke 
Ere  nocturns  of  Crescentius,  to  revoke 
The  edict  issued  after  his  demise 
That  blotted  memory,  and  effigies, 
All  out  except  a  floating  power,  a  name 
Including,  tending  to  produce  the  same 


1/0  SORDELLO. 

Great  act.     Rome,  dead,  forgotten,  lived  at  least 

Within  that  man,  though  to  a  vulgar  priest 

And  a  vile  stranger,  fit  to  be  a  slave 

Of  Rome's,  Pope  John,  King  Otho,  fortune  gave 

The  rule  there  :  but  Crescentius,  haply  drest 

In  white,  called  Roman  Consul  for  a  jest, 

Taking  the  people  at  their  word,  forth  stept 

As  upon  Brutus'  heel,  nor  ever  kept 

Us  waiting ;  stept  he  forth  and  from  his  brain 

Gave  Rome  out  on  its  ancient  place  again. 

Ay,  bade  proceed  with  Brutus'  Rome  kings  styled 

Themselves  the  citizens  of,  and,  beguiled 

Thereby,  were  fain  select  the  lustrous  gem 

Out  of  a  lapfull,  spoil  their  diadem 

— The  Senate's  cypher  was  so  hard  to  scratch  ! 

He  flashes  like  a  phanal,  men  too  catch 

The  flame,  and  Rome's  accomplished  ;  when  returned 

Otho  and  John  the  Consul's  step  had  spurned, 

With  Hugo  Lord  of  Este,  to  redress 

The  wrongs  of  each.     Crescentius  in  the  stress 

Of  adverse  fortune  bent.     They  crucified 

Their  Consul  in  the  Forum  and  abide 

Such  slaves  at  Rome  e'er  since,  that  I — (for  I 

Was  once  a  brown-sleeve  brother,  merrily 


SORDELLO.  171 

Appointed) — I  had  option  to  keep  wife 

Or  keep  brown  sleeves,  and  managed  in  the  strife 

Lose  both.     A  song  of  Rome ! 

And  Rome,  indeed, 
Robed  at  Goito  in  fantastic  weed. 
The  Mother-City  of  those  Mantuan  days, 
Looked  an  established  point  of  light  whence  rays 
Traversed  the  world  ;  and  all  the  clustered  homes 
Beside  of  men  were  bent  on  being  Romes 
In  their  degree  ;  the  question  was  how  each 
Should  most  resemble  Rome,  clean  out  of  reach 
Herself ;  nor  struggled  either  principle 
To  change  what  it  aspired  possess — Rome,  still 
For  Friedrich  or  Honorius. 

Rome  's  the  Cause  ! 
The  Rome  of  the  old  Pandects,  our  new  laws — 
The  Capitol  turned  Castle  Angelo 
And  structures  that  inordinately  glow 
Corrected  by  the  Theatre  forlorn 
As  a  black  mundane  shell,  its  world  late  born 
— Yerona,  that 's  beside  it.     These  combined, 
We  typify  the  scheme  to  put  mankind 
Once  more  in  full  possession  of  their  rights 
By  his  sole  agency.     On  me  it  lights 


172  SORDELLO. 

To  build  up  Rome  again — me,  first  and  last : 
For  such  a  Future  was  endured  the  Past ! 
And  thus  in  the  grey  twilight  forth  he  sprung 
To  give  his  thought  consistency  among 
The  People's  self,  and  let  their  truth  avail 
Finish  the  dream  grown  from  the  archer  s  tale. 


SORDELLO.  173 


BOOK    THE    FIFTH. 


Is  it  the  same  Sordello  in  the  dusk 

As  at  the  dawn  ?  merely  a  perished  husk 

Now,  that  arose  a  power  like  to  build 

Up  Rome  again  ?     The  proud  conception  chilled 

So  soon  ?     Ay,  watch  that  latest  dream  of  thine 

— A  Rome  indebted  to  no  Palatine, 

Drop  arch  by  arch,  Sordello  !     Art  possest 

Of  thy  wish  now — rewarded  for  thy  quest 

To-day  among  Ferrara's  squalid  sons — 

Are  this  and  this  and  this  the  shining  ones 

Meet  for  the  Shining  City  ?     Sooth  to  say 

Our  favoured  tenantry  pursue  their  way 

After  a  fashion  !     This  companion  slips 

On  the  smooth  causey,  t'other  blinkard  trips 

At  his  mooned  sandal.     Leave  to  lead  the  brawls 

Here  i'  the  atria  ?     No,  friend.     He  that  sprawls 


174  SORDELLO. 

On  aught  but  a  stibadium  suffers  .  .  .  goose, 
Puttest  our  lustral  vase  to  such  an  use  ? 
Oh,  huddle  up  the  day  s  disasters — march 
Ye  runagates,  and  drop  thou,  arch  by  arch, 
Eome ! 

Yet  before  they  quite  disband — a  whim — 
Study  a  shelter,  now,  for  him,  and  him. 
Nay,  even  him,  to  house  them  !  any  cave 
Suffices — throw  out  earth.     A  loophole  ?     Brave ! 
They  ask  to  feel  the  sun  shine,  see  the  grass 
Grow,  hear  the  larks  sing  ?     Dead  art  thou,  alas, 
And  I  am  dead  !     But  here's  our  son  excels 
At  hurdle- weaving  any  Scythian,  fells 
Oak  and  devises  rafters,  dreams  and  shapes 
That  dream  into  a  door-post,  just  escapes 
The  mystery  of  hinges.     Lie  we  both 
Perdue  another  age.     The  goodly  growth 
Of  brick  and  stone  !     Our  building-pelt  was  rough, 
But  that  descendant's  garb  suits  well  enough 
A  portico-contriver.     Speed  the  years — 
What 's  time  to  us  ?  and  lo,  a  city  rears 
Itself !  nay,  enter — what's  the  grave  to  us  ? 
So  our  forlorn  acquaintance  carry  thus 
A  head  !  successively  sewer,  forum,  cirque — 
Last  age  that  aqueduct  was  counted  work, 


SORDELLO.  175 

And  now  they  tire  the  artificer  upon 

Blank  alabaster,  black  obsidion, 

— Careful  Jove's  face  be  duly  fulgurant, 

And  mother  Yenus'  kiss-creased  nipples  pant 

Back  into  pristine  pulpiness,  ere  fixed 

Above  the  baths.     What  difference  betwixt 

This  Rome  and  ours  ?     Resemblance  what  between 

The  scurvy  dumb- show  and  the  pageant  sheen — 

These  Romans  and  our  rabble  ?     Rest  thy  wit 

And  listen  :  step  by  step, — a  workman  fit 

With  each,  nor  too  fit, — to  one's  task,  one's  time, — 

No  leaping  o'er  the  petty  to  the  prime, 

When  just  the  substituting  osier  lithe 

For  bulrushes,  and  after,  wood  for  withe 

To  further  loam  and  roughcast  work  a  stage. 

Exacts  an  architect,  exacts  an  age, — 

Nor  tables  of  the  Mauritanian  tree 

For  men  whose  maple-log  's  their  luxury, — 

And  Rome's  accomplished  !     Better  (say  you)  merge 

At  once  all  workmen  in  the  demiurge, 

All  epochs  in  a  life-time,  and  all  tasks 

In  one  :  undoubtedly  the  city  basks 

I'  the  day — w^hile  those  you'd  feast  there  want  the  knack 

Of  keeping  fresh-chalked  gowns  from  speck  and  brack. 


176  SORDELLO. 

Distinguish  not  your  peacock  from  your  swan, 

Or  Mareotic  juice  from  Coecuban, 

Nay  sneer  .  .  .  enough  !  'twas  happy  to  conceive 

Rome  on  a  sudden,  nor  shall  fate  bereave 

Us  of  that  credit :  for  the  rest,  her  spite 

Is  an  old  story — serves  us  very  right 

For  adding  yet  another  to  the  dull 

List  of  devices — things  proved  beautiful 

Could  they  be  done,  Sordello  cannot  do. 

He  sate  upon  the  terrace,  plucked  and  threw 
The  powdery  aloe- cusps  away,  saw  shift 
Rome's  walls,  and  drop  arch  after  arch,  and  drift 
Mist-like  afar  those  pillars  of  all  stripe. 
Mounds  of  all  majesty.     Thou  archetype. 
Last  of  my  dreams  and  loveliest,  depart ! 

And  then  a  low  voice  wound  into  his  heart : 
Sordello  (lower  than  a  Pythoness 
Conceding  to  a  Lydian  King's  distress 
The  cause  of  his  long  error — one  mistake 
Of  her  past  oracle)  Sordello,  wake  ! 
Where  is  the  vanity  ?     Why  count  you,  one 
The  first  step  with  the  last  step  ?     What  is  gone 
Except  that  aery  magnificence — 
That  last  step  you  took  first  ?  an  evidence 


SORDELLO.  177 

You  were  ...  no  matter.     Let  those  glances  fall ! 

This  basis,  this  beginning  step  of  all, 

Which  proves  you  one  of  us,  is  this  gone  too  ? 

Pity  to  disconcert  one  versed  as  you 

In  fate's  ill-nature,  but  its  full  extent 

Eludes  Sordello,  even  :  the  veil 's  rent, 

Read  the  black  writing — that  collective  man 

Outstrips  the  individual !     Who  began 

The  greatnesses  you  know  ? — ay,  your  own  art 

Shall  serve  us  :  put  the  poet's  mimes  apart — 

Close  with  the  poet — closer — what  ?  a  dim 

Too  plain  form  separates  itself  from  him  ? 

Alcama's  song  enmeshes  the  lulled  Isle, 

Woven  into  the  echoes  left  erewhile 

Of  Nina's,  one  soft  web  of  song :  no  more 

Turning  his  name,  now,  flower-like  o'er  and  o'er ! 

An  elder  poet  's  in  the  younger's  place — 

Take  Nina's  strength — but  lose  Alcama's  grace  ? 

Each  neutralizes  each  then  I  gaze  your  fill ; 

Search  further  and  the  past  presents  you  still 

New  Ninas,  new  Alcamas,  time's  mid-night 

Concluding, — better  say  its  evenlight 

Of  yesterday.     You,  now,  in  this  respect 

Of  benefitting  people  (to  reject 


178  BORDELLO. 

The  favour  of  your  fearful  ignorance 

A  thousand  phantasms  eager  to  advance, 

Refer  you  but  to  those  within  your  reach) 

Were  you  the  first  who  got,  to  use  plain  speech, 

The  Multitude  to  be  materialized  ? 

That  loose  eternal  unrest — who  devised 

An  apparition  i'  the  midst  ?  the  rout 

Who  checked,  the  breathless  ring  who  formed  about 

That  sudden  flower  ?     Get  round  at  any  risk 

The  gold-rough  pointel,  silver-blazing  disk 

0'  the  lily  !     Swords  across  it !     Reign  thy  reign 

And  serve  thy  frolic  service,  Charlemagne ! 

— The  very  child  of  over-joy ousness. 

Unfeeling  thence,  strong  therefore :  Strength  by  stress 

Of  Strength  comes  of  a  forehead  confident. 

Two  widened  eyes  expecting  heart's  content, 

A  calm  as  out  of  just-quelled  noise,  nor  swerves 

The  ample  cheek  for  doubt,  in  gracious  curves 

Abutting  on  the  upthrust  nether  lip — 

He  wills,  how  should  lie  doubt  then  ?     Ages  slip — 

Was  it  Sordello  pried  into  the  work 

So  far  accomplished,  and  discovering  lurk 

A  company  amid  the  other  clans, 

Only  distinct  in  priests  for  castellans 


SORDELLO.  179 

And  popes  for  suzerains  (their  rule  confessed 
Its  rule,  their  interest  its  interest, 
Living  for  sake  of  living — there  an  end, 
Wrapt  in  itself,  no  energy  to  spend 
In  making  adversaries  or  allies)  ; 
Dived  he  into  its  capabilities 
And  dared  create  out  of  that  sect  a  soul 
Should  turn  the  multitude,  already  whole, 
To  some  account  ?     Speak  plainer !     Is't  so  sure 
God's  church  lives  by  a  King's  investiture  ? 
Look  to  last  step  :  a  staggering — a  shock — 
What  's  sand  shall  be  demolished,  but  the  rock 
Endures — a  column  of  black  fiery  dust 
Blots  heaven — woe,  woe,  'tis  prematurely  thrust 
Aside,  that  step  ! — the  air  clears — nought's  erased 
Of  the  true  outline  ?     Thus  much  is  firm  based — 
The  other  was  a  scaffold  :  see  you  stand 
Buttressed  upon  his  mattock  Hildebrand 
Of  the  huge  brain-mask  welded  ply  o'er  ply 
As  in  a  forge ;  it  buries  either  eye 
White  and  extinct,  that  stupid  brow  ;  teeth  clenched, 
The  neck  's  tight-corded,  too,  the  chin  deep-trenched, 
As  if  a  cloud  enveloped  him  while  fought 
Under  it  all,  grim  prizers,  thought  with  thought 
N  2 


180  SORDELLO. 

At  dead-lock,  agonizing  he,  until 

The  victor  thought  leap  radiant  up,  and  Will,' 

The  slave  with  folded  arms  and  drooping  lids 

They  fought  for,  lean  forth  flame-like  as  it  bids. 

— A  root,  the  crippled  mandrake  of  the  earth. 

Thwarted  and  dwarfed  and  blasted  in  its  birth, 

Be  certain ;  fruit  of  suffering's  excess. 

Whence  feeling,  therefore  stronger  :  still  by  stress 

Of  Strength,  work  Knowledge !  Full  threehundred years 

For  men  to  wear  away  in  smiles  and  tears 

Between  the  two  that  nearly  seem  to  touch, 

Observe  you  :  quit  one  workman  and  we  clutch 

Another,  letting  both  their  trains  go  by — 

The  actors-out  of  cither's  policy, 

Heinrich,  on  this  hand,  Otho,  Barbaross, 

May  carry  the  Imperial  crowns  across, 

Aix'  Iron,  Milan's  Silver,  and  Rome's  Gold — 

As  Alexander,  Innocent  uphold 

On  that  the  Papal  keys — but,  link  on  link, 

Why  is  it  neither  chain  betrays  a  chink  ? 

How  coalesce  the  small  and  great  ?    Alack, 

For  one  thrust  forward,  fifty  such  fall  back  ! 

The  couple  there  alone  help  Gregory  ? 

Hark — from  the  hermit  Peter's  thin  sad  cry 


SORDELLO.  181 

At  Claremont,  yonder  to  the  serf  that  says 
Friedrich  *s  no  liege  of  his  while  he  delays 
Getting  the  Pope's  curse  off  him  !     The  Crusade — 
Or  trick  of  breeding  strength  by  other  aid 
Than  strength,  is  safe  :  hark — from  the  wild  harangue 
Of  Yimmercato,  to  the  carroch's  clang. 
Yonder !     The  League — or  trick  of  turning  strength 
Against  pernicious  strength,  is  safe  at  length  : 
Yet  hark — from  Mantuan  Albert's  making  cease 
The  fierce  ones,  to  Saint  Francis  preacliing  peace 
Yonder  1     God's  Truce — or  trick  to  supersede 
The  use  of  strength  at  all,  is  safe.     Indeed 
We  trench  upon  the  future !     Who  shall  found 
Next  step,  next  age — trail  plenteous  o'er  the  ground 
Yine-like,  produced  by  joy  and  sorrow,  whence 
Unfeeling  and  yet  feeling,  strongest  thence : 
Knowledge  by  stress  of  Knowledge  is  it  ?     No — 
E'en  were  Sordello  ready  to  forego 
His  work  for  this,  'twere  overleaping  work 
Some  one  must  do  before,  howe'er  it  irk  : 
No  end  's  in  sight  yet  of  that  second  road  : 
Who  means  to  help  must  still  support  the  load 
Hildebrand  lifted — why  hast  Thou,  he  groaned, 
Imposed,  my  God,  a  thing  thy  Paul  had  moaned. 


182  SORDELLO. 

Thy  Moses  failed  beneath,  on  me  ?  and  yet 

That  grandest  of  the  tasks  God  ever  set 

On  man  left  much  to  do  :  a  mighty  wrench — 

The  scaffold  falls — but  half  the  pillars  blench 

Merely,  start  back  again — perchance  have  been 

Taken  for  buttresses  :  crash  every  screen. 

Hammer  the  tenons  better,  and  engage 

A  gang  about  your  work,  for  the  next  age 

Or  two,  of  Knowledge,  part  by  Strength  and  part 

By  Knowledge !  then — Ay,  then  perchance  may  start 

Sordello  on  his  race  —but  who'll  divulge 

Time's  secrets  ?  lo,  a  step  's  awry,  a  bulge 

To  be  corrected  by  a  step  we  thought 

Got  over  long  ago — till  that  is  wrought. 

No  progress  !  and  that  scaffold  in  its  turn 

Becomes,  its  service  o'er,  a  thing  to  spurn. 

Meanwhile,  your  some  half-dozen  years  of  life 

Longer,  dispose  you  to  forego  the  strife — 

Who  takes  exception  ?     'Tis  Ferrara,  mind. 

Before  us,  and  Goito  's  left  behind  : 

As  you  then  were,  as  half  yourself,  desist ! 

— The  warrior-part  of  you  may,  an  it  list. 

Finding  real  faulchions  diiSicult  to  poise. 

Fling  them  afar  and  taste  the  cream  of  joys 


SORDELLO.  183 

By  wielding  one  in  fancy, — what  is  bard 

Of  you,  may  spurn  the  vehicle  that  marred 

Elys  so  much,  and  in  mere  fancy  glut 

His  sense  on  her  free  beauties — we  have  but 

To  please  ourselves  for  law,  and  you  could  please 

What  then  appeared  yourself  by  dreaming  these 

Rather  than  doing  these :  now — fancy's  trade 

Is  ended,  mind,  nor  one  half  may  evade 

The  other  half :  our  friends  are  half  of  you : 

Out  of  a  thousand  helps,  just  one  or  two 

Can  be  accomplished  presently — but  flinch 

From  these  (as  from  the  faulchion  raised  an  inch, 

Elys  described  a  couplet)  and  make  proof 

Of  fancy, — and,  while  one  half  lolls  aloof 

O'  the  grass  completing  Rome  to  the  tip-top — 

See  if,  for  that,  the  other  half  will  stop 

A  tear,  begin  a  smile :  that  rabble's  woes, 

Ludicrous  in  their  patience  as  they  chose 

To  sit  about  their  town  and  quietly 

Be  slaughtered, — the  poor  reckless  soldiery. 

With  their  ignoble  rhymes  on  Richard,  how 

Polt-foot,  sang  they,  was  in  a  pitfall  now, 

Cheering  each  other  from  the  engine-mounts, — 

That  crippled  spawling  idiot  who  recounts 


184  SORDELLO. 

How,  lopt  of  limbs,  he  lay,  stupid  as  stone^ 
Till  the  pains  crept  from  out  him  one  by  one^ 
And  wriggles  round  the  archers  on  his  head 
To  earn  a  morsel  of  their  chesnut  bread, — 
And  Cino,  always  in  the  self-same  place 
Weeping ;  beside  that  other  wretches'  case 
Eyepits  to  ear  one  gangrene  since  he  plied 
The  engine  in  his  coat  of  raw  sheep's  hide 
A  double  watch  in  the  noon  stm ;  and  see 
Lucchino,  beauty,  with  the  favors  free, 
Trim  hacqueton  and  sprucely  scented  hair. 
Campaigning  it  for  the  first  time — cut  there 
In  two  already,  boy  enough  to  crawl 
For  latter  orpine  round  the  Southern  wall, 
Toma,  where  Richard  's  kept,  because  that  whore 
Marfisa  the  fool  never  saw  before 
Sickened  for  flowers  this  wearisomest  siege  : 
Then  Tiso's  wife — men  liked  their  pretty  liege. 
Cared  for  her  least  of  whims  once,  Berta,  wed 
A  twelvemonth  gone,  and,  now  poor  Tiso  's  dead. 
Delivering  herself  of  his  first  child 
On  that  chance  heap  of  wet  filth,  reconciled 
To  fifty  gazers.     (Here  a  wind  below 
Made  moody  music  augural  of  woe 


SORDELLO.  185 

From  the  pine  barrier) — "What  if,  now  the  scene 
Draws  to  a  shutting,  if  yourself  have  been 
— You,  plucking  purples  in  Goito's  moss 
Like  edges  of  a  trabea  (not  to  cross 
Your  consul-feeling)  or  dry  aloe-shafts 
Here  at  Ferrara — He  whom  fortune  wafts 
This  very  age  her  best  inheritance 
Of  opportunities  ?     Yet  we  advance . 
Upon  the  last !     Since  talking  is  your  trade, 
There  's  Salinguerra  left  you  to  persuade. 
And  then — 

No — no — which  latest  chance  secure  ! 
Leapt  up  and  cried  Sordello  :  this  made  sure, 
The  Past  is  yet  redeemable  whose  work 
Was — help  the  Guelfs,  and  I,  howe'er  it  irk. 
Thus  help  !     He  shook  the  foolish  aloe-haulm 
Out  of  his  doublet,  paused,  proceeded  calm 
To  the  appointed  presence.     The  large  head 
Turned  on  its  socket ;  And  your  spokesman,  said 
The  large  voice,  is  Elcorte's  happy  sprout  ? 
Few  such  (so  finishing  a  speech  no  doubt 
Addressed  to  Palma,  silent  at  his  side) 
Our  sober  councils  have  diversified  : 
Elcorte's  son  ! — but  forward  as  you  may, 
Our  lady's  minstrel  with  so  much  to  say  ! 


186  SORDELLO. 

The  hesitating  sunset  floated  back, 

Rosily  traversed  in  a  single  track 

The  chamber,  from  the  lattice  o'er  the  girth 

Of  pines  to  the  huge  eagle  blacked  in  earth 

Opposite,  outlined  sudden,  spur  to  crest. 

That  solid  Salinguerra,  and  caressed 

Palma's  contour ;  'twas  Day  looped  back  Night's  pall; 

Sordello  had  a  chance  left  spite  of  all. 

And  much  he  made  of  the  convincing  speech 
He  meant  should  compensate  the  Past  and  reach 
Through  his  youth's  daybreak  of  unprofit,  quite 
To  his  noon  s  labour,  so  proceed  till  night 
At  leisure  !     The  contrivances  to  bind 
Taurello  body  with  the  Cause  and  mind, 
— "Was  the  consummate  rhetoric  just  that  ? 
Yet  most  Bordello's  argument  dropped  flat 
Through  his  accustomed  fault  of  breaking  yoke. 
Disjoining  him  who  felt  from  him  who  spoke  : 
Was't  not  a  touching  incident — so  prompt 
A  rendering  the  world  its  just  accompt 
Once  proved  its  debtor  ?     Who'd  suppose  before 
This  proof  that  he,  Goito's  God  of  yore. 
At  duty's  instance  could  demean  himself 
So  memorably,  dwindle  to  a  Guelf  ? 


SORDELLO.  187 

Be  sure,  in  such  delicious  flattery  steeped, 

His  inmost  self  at  the  out-portion  peeped 

Thus  occupied ;  then  stole  a  glance  at  those 

Appealed  to,  curious  if  her  colour  rose 

Or  his  lip  moved,  while  he  discreetly  urged 

The  need  of  Lomhardy's  becoming  purged 

At  soonest  of  her  barons  ;  the  poor  part 

Abandoned  thus  missing  the  blood  at  heart. 

Spirit  in  brain,  unseasonably  off 

Elsewhere !    But,  though  his  speech  was  worthy  scoff, 

Good-humoured  Salinguerra,  famed  for  tact 

That  way,  who,  careless  of  his  phrase,  ne'er  lacked 

The  right  phrase,  and  harangued  Honor ius  dumb 

At  his  accession,  looked  as  all  fell  plumb 

To  purpose  and  himself  took  interest 

In  every  point  his  new  instructor  pressed 

— Left  playing  with  the  rescript's  white  wax  seal 

To  scrutinize  Sordello  head  to  heel : 

Then  means  he  .  .  .  yes,  assent  sure  ?    Well  ?    Alas, 

He  said  no  more  than.  So  it  comes  to  pass 

That  poesy,  sooner  than  politics. 

Makes  fade  young  hair  :  to  think  his  speech  could  fix 

Taurello ! 

Then  a  flash ;  he  knew  the  truth  : 
So  fantasies  shall  break  and  fritter  youth 


188  SORDELLO. 

That  he  has  long  ago  lost  earnestness, 

Lost  will  to  work,  lost  power  to  express 

Even  the  need  of  working !     Ere  the  grave 

No  more  occasions  now,  though  he  should  crave 

One  such  in  right  of  superhuman  toil 

To  do  what  was  undone,  repair  his  spoil, 

Alter  the  Past — nought  brings  again  the  chance  ! 

Not  that  he  was  to  die :  he  saw  askance 

Protract  the  ignominious  years  beyond 

To  dream  in — time  to  hope  and  time  despond, 

Remember  and  forget,  be  sad,  rejoice 

As  saved  a  trouble,  suited  to  his  choice, 

— One  way  or  other  idle  life  out,  drop 

No  few  smooth  verses  by  the  way — for  prop 

A  thyrsus  these  sad  people  should,  the  same, 

Pick  up,  set  store  by,  and,  so  far  from  blame. 

Plant  o'er  his  hearse  convinced  his  better  part 

Survived  him.     Rather  tear  men  out  the  heart 

Of  the  truth  !     Sordello  muttered,  and  renewed 

His  propositions  for  the  Multitude. 

But  Salinguerra  who,  the  last  attack. 
Threw  himself  in  his  ruffling  corslet  back 
To  hear  the  better,  smilingly  resumed 
Some  task  ;  beneath  the  carroch's  warning  boomed; 


^ 


SORDELLO.  189 

He  must  decide  with  Tito  ;  courteously 

He  turned  then,  even  seeming  to  agree 

With  his  admonisher — "  Assist  the  Pope,  • 

Extend  his  domination,  fill  the  scope 

Of  the  Church  based  on  All,  by  All,  for  All — 

Change  Secular  to  Evangelicar' — 

Echoing  his  very  sentence  :  all  seemed  lost, 

When  sudden  he  looked,  laughingly  almost, 

To  Palma  :     This  opinion  of  your  friend's 

For  instance,  would  it  answer  Palma's  ends  ? 

Best,  were  it  not,  turn  Guelf,  submit  our  Strength 

(Here  he  drew  out  his  baldric  to  its  length) 

To  the  Pope's  Knowledge — letting  Richard  slip. 

Wide  to  the  walls  throw  ope  your  gates,  equip 

Azzo  with  .  .  .  but  no  matter !     Who  '11  subscribe 

To  a  trite  censure  of  the  minstrel  tribe 

Henceforward  ?  or  pronounce,  as  Heinrich  used, 

"  Spear -heads  for  battle,  burr-heads  for  the  joust" 

— When  Constance,  for  his  couplets,  would  promote 

Alcama  from  a  parti-coloured  coat 

To  holding  her  lord's  stirrup  in  the  wars. 

Not  that  I  see  where  couplet -making  jars 

With  common  sense  :  at  Mantua  we  had  borne 

This  chanted,  easier  than  their  most  forlorn 


190  SORDELLO. 

Of  bull-fights,  that's  indisputable ! 

Brave ! 
Whom  vanity  nigh  slew,  contempt  shall  save  ! 
All's  at  an  end :  a  Troubadour  suppose 
Mankind  's  to  class  him  with  their  friends  or  foes  ? 
A  puny  uncouth  ailing  vassal  think 
The  world  and  him  in  some  especial  link  ? 
Abrupt  the  visionary  tether  's  burst — 
"What's  to  reward  or  what  to  be  amerced 
If  a  poor  drudge,  solicitous  to  dream 
Deservingly,  gets  tangled  by  his  theme 
So  far  as  to  conceit  his  knack  or  gift 
Or  whatsoe'er  it  be  of  verse  might  lift 
The  globe,  a  lever  like  the  hand  and  head 
Of — Men  of  Action,  as  the  Jongleurs  said, 
— The  Great  Men,  in  the  people's  dialect  ? 
And  not  a  moment  did  this  scorn  affect 
Sordello  :  scorn  the  poet  ?     They,  for  once, 
Asking  "  what  was,"  obtained  a  full  response. 
Bid  Naddo  think  at  Mantua,  he  had  but 
To  look  into  his  promptuary,  put 
His  hand  on  a  set  thought  in  a  set  speech : 
And  was  Sordello  fitted  thus  for  each 
Conjuncture  ?     No  wise  ;  since  within  his  soul 
Perception  brooded  unexpressed  and  whole: 


SORDELLO.  191 

A  healthy  spirit  like  a  healthy  frame 

Craves  aliment  in  plenty  and,  the  same, 

Changes,  assimilates  its  aliment : 

Perceived  Sordello,  on  a  truth  intent  ? 

Next  day  no  formularies  more  you  saw 

Than  figs  or  olives  in  a  sated  maw 

— Tis  Knowledge  whither  such  perceptions  tend, 

They  lose  themselves  in  that,  means  to  an  end, 

The  Many  Old  producing  some  One  New, 

A  Last  unlike  the  First.     If  lies  are  true. 

The  Caliph  Haroun  s  man  of  brass  receives 

A^meal,  ay,  millet  grains  and  lettuce  leaves 

Together  in  his  stomach  rattle  loose— 

You  find  them  perfect  next  day  to  produce 

But  ne'er  expect  the  man,  on  strength  of  that, 

Can  roll  an  iron  camel-  collar  flat 

Like  Haroun  s  self !     I  tell  you,  what  was  stored 

Parcel  by  parcel  through  his  life,  outpoured 

That  eve,  was,  for  that  age,  a  novel  thing  : 

And  round  those  three  the  People  formed  a  ring, 

Suspended  their  own  vengeance,  chose  await 

The  issue  of  this  strife  to  reinstate 

Them  in  the  right  of  taking  it — in  fact 

He  must  be  proved  their  lord  ere  they  exact 


192  SORDELLO. 

Amends  for  that  lord's  defalcation.    Last, 
A  reason  why  the  phrases  flowed  so  fast 
Was  in  his  quite  forgetting  for  the  time 
Himself  in  his  amazement  that  his  rhyme 
Disguised  the  royalty  so  much  :  he  there — 
They  full  face  to  him — and  yet  unaware 
Who  was  the  King  and  who  .  .  .  But  if  I  lay 
On  thine  my  spirit  and  compel  obey 
His  lord — Taurello  ?     Impotent  to  build 
Another  Rome,  but  hardly  so  unskilled 
In  what  such  builder  should  have  been  as  brook 
One  shame  beyond  the  charge  that  he  forsook 
His  function  !     Set  me  free  that  shame  I  bend 
A  brow  before,  suppose  new  years  to  spend, 
Allow  each  chance,  nor  fruitlessly,  recur — 
Measure  thee  with  the  Minstrel,  then,  demur 
At  any  crown  he  claims  !    That  I  must  cede 
As  'tis,  my  right  to  my  especial  meed — 
Confess  you  fitter  help  the  world  than  I 
Ordained  its  champion  from  eternity. 
Is  much  :  but  to  behold  you  scorn  the  post 
I  quit  in  your  behalf— as  aught 's  to  boast 
Unless  you  help  the  world !     And  while  he  rung 
The  changes  on  this  theme,  the  roof  up-sprung, 


SORDELLO.  193 

The  sad  walls  of  the  presence-chamber  died 

Into  the  distance,  or,  embowering  vied 

With  far-away  Goito's  vine- frontier  ; 

And  crowds  of  faces  (only  keeping  clear 

The  rose-light  in  the  midst,  his  vantage-ground 

To  fight  their  battle  from)  deep  clustered  round 

Sordello,  with  good  wishes  no  mere  breath, 

Kind  prayers  for  him  no  vapour,  since,  come  death. 

Come  life,  he  was  fresh-sinewed  every  joint. 

Each  bone  new-marrowed  as  whom  Gods  anoint 

Though  mortal  to  their  rescue  :  now  let  sprawl 

The  snaky  volumes  hither,  Typhon's  all 

For  Hercules  to  trample — good  report 

From  Salinguerra  's  only  to  extort  ? 

So  was  I  (closed  he  his  inculcating 
A  poet  must  be  earth's  essential  king) 
So  was  I,  royal  so,  and  if  I  fail 
Tis  not  the  royalty  ye  witness  quail 
But  one  deposed  who,  caring  not  exert 
Its  proper  essence,  trifled  malapert 
With  accidents  instead — good  things  assigned 
The  herald  of  a  better  thing  behind — 
And,  worthy  through  display  of  these,  put  forth 
Never  the  inmost  all- surpassing  worth 


194  SORDELLO. 

That  constitutes  him  King  precisely  since 

As  yet  no  other  creature  may  evince 

Its  like :  the  power  he  took  most  pride  to  test. 

Whereby  all  forms  of  life  had  been  professed 

At  pleasure,  forms  already  on  the  earth, 

Was  but  a  means  to  power  whose  novel  birth 

Should,  in  its  novelty,  be  kingship's  proof — 

Now,  whether  he  came  near  or  kept  aloof, 

Those  forms  unalterable  first  to  last 

Proved  him  her  copy,  not  the  protoplast 

Of  Nature  :  what  could  come  of  being  free 

By  action  to  exhibit  tree  for  tree, 

Bird,  beast  for  beast  and  bird,  or  prove  earth  bore 

A  veritable  man  or  woman  more  ? 

Means  to  an  end,  such  proofs ;  and  what  the  end  ? 

Your  essence,  whatsoe'er  it  be,  extend — 

Never  contract !     Already  you  include 

The  multitude ;  now  let  the  multitude 

Include  yourself,  and  the  result  is  new ; 

Themselves  before,  the  multitude  turn  you ; 

This  were  to  live  and  move  and  have  (in  them) 

Your  being,  and  secure  a  diadem 

That 's  to  transmit  (because  no  cycle  yearns 

Beyond  itself,  but  on  itself  returns) 


SORDELLO.  195 

When  the  full  sphere  in  wane,  the  world  overlaid 
Long  since  with  you,  shall  have  in  turn  obeyed 
Some  orb  still  prouder,  some  displayer,  still 
More  potent  than  the  last,  of  human  Will, 
And  some  new  King  depose  the  old.     Of  such 
Am  I — whom  pride  of  this  elates  too  much  ? 
Safe,  rather  say,  mid  troops  of  peers  again ; 
I,  with  my  words,  hailed  brother  of  the  train 
Once  deeds  sufficed  :  for,  let  the  world  roll  back. 
Who  fails,  through  deeds  diverse  so  e'er,  re-track 
My  purpose  still,  my  task  ?     A  teeming  crust — 
Air,  flame,  earth,  wave  at  conflict — see  !     Needs  must 
Emerge  some  Calm  embodied  these  refer 
(Saturn — no  yellow-bearded  Jupiter!) 
The  brawl  to ;  some  existence  like  a  pact 
And  protest  against  Chaos,  some  first  fact 
r  the  faint  of  Time  .  .  .  my  deep  of  life,  I  know, 
Is  unavailing  e'en  to  poorly  show 
(For  here  the  Chief  immeasurably  yawned) 
Deeds  in  their  due  gradation  till  Song  dawned — 
The  fullest  effluence  of  the  finest  mind 
All  in  degree,  no  way  diverse  in  kind 
From  those  about  us,  minds  which,  more  or  less, 
Lofty  or  low,  in  moving  seek  impress 
o  2 


196  SORDELLO. 

Themselves  on  somewhat ;  but  one  mind  has  climbed 

Step  after  step,  by  just  ascent  sublimed  : 

Thought  is  the  soul  of  act,  and  stage  by  stage. 

Is  soul  from  body  still  to  disengage 

As  tending  to  a  freedom  which  rejects 

Such  help  and  incorporeally  aflfects 

The  world,  producing  deeds  but  not  by  deeds. 

Swaying,  in  others,  frames  itself  exceeds, 

Assigning  them  the  simpler  tasks  it  used 

As  patiently  perform  till  Song  produced 

Acts,  by  thoughts  only,  for  the  mind  :  divest 

Mind  of  e'en  Thought,  and,  lo,  God's  unexpressed 

Will  dawns  above  us.     But  so  much  to  win 

Ere  that !     A  lesser  round  of  steps  within 

The  last.     About  me,  faces  !  and  they  flock. 

The  earnest  faces !     What  shall  I  unlock 

By  song  ?  behold  me  prompt,  whate'er  it  be, 

To  minister :  how  much  can  mortals  see 

Of  Life  ?     No  more  ?     I  covet  the  first  task 

And  marshal  yon  Life's  elemental  Masque 

Of  Men,  on  evil  or  on  good  lay  stress, 

This  light,  this  shade  make  prominent,  suppress 

All  ordinary  hues  that  softening  blend 

Such  natures  with  the  level :  apprehend 


BORDELLO.  197 

"Which  evil  is,  which  good,  if  I  allot 

Your  Hell,  the  Purgatory,  Heaven  ye  v^ot. 

To  those  you  doubt  concerning :  I  en  womb 

Some  wretched  Friedrich  with  his  red-hot  tomb, 

Some  dubious  spirit,  Lombard  Agilulph 

With  the  black  chastening  river  I  engulph ; 

Some  unapproached  Matilda  I  enshrine 

With  languors  of  the  planet  of  decline — 

These  fail  to  recognise,  to  arbitrate 

Between  henceforth,  to  rightly  estimate 

Thus  marshalled  in  the  Masque !     Myself,  the  while. 

As  one  of  you,  am  witness,  shrink  or  smile 

At  my  own  showing !     Next  age — what's  to  do  ? 

The  men  and  women  stationed  hitherto 

Will  I  unstation,  good  and  bad,  conduct 

Each  nature  to  its  farthest  or  obstruct 

At  soonest  in  the  world :  Light,  thwarted,  breaks 

A  limpid  purity  to  rainbow  flakes. 

Or  Shadow,  helped,  freezes  to  gloom  :  behold 

How  such,  with  fit  assistance  to  unfold. 

Or  obstacles  to  crush  them,  disengage 

Their  forms,  love,  hate,  hope,  fear,  peace  make,  war 

In  presence  of  you  all !     Myself  implied         C^v^ge? 

Superior  now,  as,  by  the  platform's  side, 


198  SORDELLO. 

Bidding  them  do  and  suffer  to  content 

The  world  .  .  .  no — that  I  wait  not — circumvent 

A  few  it  has  contented,  and  to  these 

Offer  unveil  the  last  of  mysteries 

I  boast !     Man  s  life  shall  have  yet  freer  play : 

Once  more  I  cast  external  things  away 

And  Natures,  varied  now,  so  decompose 

That  .  .  .  but  enough !     Why  fancy  how  I  rose, 

Or  rather  you  advanced  since  evermore 

Yourselves  effect  what  I  was  fain  before 

Effect,  what  I  supplied  yourselves  suggest, 

What  I  leave  bare  yourselves  can  now  invest  ? 

How  we  attained  to  talk  as  brothei:s  talk. 

In  half-words,  call  things  by  half-names,  no  balk 

From  discontinuing  old  aids — To-day 

Takes  in  account  the  work  of  Yesterday-— 

Has  not  the  world  a  Past  now,  its  adept 

Consults  ere  he  dispense  with  or  accept 

New  aids  ?  a  single  touch  more  may  enhance, 

A  touch  less  turn  to  insignificance 

Those  structures'  symmetry  the  Past  has  strewed 

Your  world  with,  once  so  bare :  leave  the  mere  rude 

Explicit  details,  'tis  but  brother  s  speech 

We  need,  speech  where  an  accent's  change  gives  each 


SORDELLO.  199 

The  other's  soul — no  speech  to  understand 

By  former  audience — need  was  then  expand, 

Expatiate — hardly  were  they  brothers  !  true — 

Nor  I  lament  my  less  remove  from  you. 

Nor  reconstruct  what  stands  already  :  ends 

Accomplished  turn  to  means  :  my  art  intends 

New  structure  from  the  ancient :  as  they  changed 

The  spoils  of  every  clime  at  Venice,  ranged 

The  horned  and  snouted  Lybian  God,  upright 

As  in  his  desert,  by  some  simple  bright 

Clay  cinerary  pitcher — Thebes  as  Rome, 

Athens  as  Byzant  rifled,  till  their  Dome 

From  Earth's  reputed  consummations  razed 

A  seal  the  all-transmuting  Triad  blazed 

Above.     Ah,  whose  that  fortune  ?  ne'ertheless 

E'en  he  must  stoop  contented  to  express 

No  tithe  of  what's  to  say — the  vehicle 

Never  sufficient — but  his  work  is  still 

For  faces  like  the  faces  that  select 

A  single  service  I  am  bound  effect 

Nor  murmur,  bid  me,  still  as  poet,  bow 

Taurello  to  the  Guelf  cause,  disallow 

The  Kaiser's  coming — which  with  heart,  soul,  strength, 

I  labour  for,  this  eve,  who  feel  at  length 


200  SORDELLO. 

My  past  career  s  outrageous  vanity 

And  would  (as  vain  amends)  die,  even  die 

Now  I  first  estimate  the  boon  of  life, 

So  death  might  bow  Taurello — sure  this  strife 

Is  the  last  strife — the  People  my  support. 

My  poor  Sordello  !  what  may  we  extort 
By  this,  I  wonder  ?     Palma's  lighted  eyes 
Turned  to  Taurello  who,  as  past  surprise. 
Began,  You  love  him — what  you'd  say  at  large 
If  I  say  briefly  ?     First  your  father  s  charge 
To  me,  his  friend,  peruse  :  I  guessed  indeed 
You  were  no  stranger  to  the  course  decreed 
Us  both :  I  leave  his  children  to  the  saints  : 
As  for  a  certain  project,  he  acquaints 
The  Pope  with  that,  and  offers  him  the  best 
Of  your  possessions  to  permit  the  rest 
Go  peaceably — to  Ecelin,  a  stripe 
Of  soil  the  cursed  Yicentines  will  gripe, 
— To  Alberic,  a  patch  the  Trevisan 
Clutches  already;  extricate  who  can 
Treville,  Yillarazzi,  Puissolo, 
Cartiglione,  Loria — all  go, 

And  with  them  go  my  hopes  !    'Tis  lost,  then  !     Lost 
This  eve,  our  crisis,  and  some  pains  it  cost 


SORDELLO.  201 

Procuring  ;  thirty  years — as  good  Fd  spent 

Like  our  admonisher  !     But  each  his  bent 

Pursues — no  question,  one  might  live  absurd 

Oneself  this  while,  by  deed  as  he  by  word. 

Persisting  to  obtrude  an  influence  where 

'Tis  made  account  of  much  as  .  .  .  nay,  you  fare 

With  twice  the  fortune,  youngster — I  submit, 

Happy  to  parallel  my  waste  of  wit 

With  the  renowned  Sordello's — you  decide 

A  course  for  me — Romano  may  abide 

Romano, — Bacchus  !     Who*d  suppose  the  dearth 

Of  Ecelins  and  Alberics  on  earth  ? 

Say  there's  a  thing  in  prospect,  must  disgrace 

Betide  competitors  ?     An  obscure  place 

Suits  me — there  wants  youth,  bustle,  one  to  stalk 

And  attitudinize — some  fight,  more  talk, 

Most  flaunting  badges — 'twere  not  hard  make  clear 

Since  Friedrich's  very  purposes  lie  here 

— Here — pity  they  are  like  to  lie !     For  me, 

Whose  station  s  fixed  unceremoniously 

Long  since,  small  use  contesting ;  I  am  but 

The  liegeman,  you  are  born  the  lieges — shut 

That  gentle  mouth  now ! — or  resume  your  kin 

In  your  sweet  self;  Palma  were  Ecelin 


202  SORDELLO. 

For  me  and  welcome !     Could  that  neck  endure 

This  bauble  for  a  cumbrous  garniture 

You  should  ...  or  might  one  bear  it  for  you  ?  Stay — 

I  have  not  been  so  flattered  many  a  day 

As  by  your  pale  friend — Bacchus  !     The  least  help 

Would  lick  the  hind's  fawn  to  a  lion's  whelp — 

His  neck  is  broad  enough — a  ready  tongue 

Beside — too  writhled — but,  the  main  thing,  young — 

I  could  .  .  .  why  look  ye  I 

And  the  badge  was  thrown 
Across  Sordello's  neck  :  this  badge  alone 
Makes  you  Romano's  Head — the  Lombard's  Curb 
Turns  on  your  neck  which  would,  on  mine,  disturb 
My  pauldron,  said  Taurello.     A  mad  act, 
Nor  dreamed  about  a  moment  since — in  fact 
Not  when  his  sportive  arm  rose  for  the  nonce — 
But  he  had  dallied  overmuch,  this  once, 
With  power :  the  thing  was  done,  and  he,  aware 
The  thing  was  done,  proceeded  to  declare 
(So  like  a  nature  made  to  serve,  excel 
In  serving,  only  feel  by  service  well) 
That  he  should  make  him  all  he  said  and  more  : 
As  good  a  scheme  as  any  :  what's  to  pore 
At  in  my  face  ?  he  asked — ponder  instead 
This  piece  of  news  :  you  are  Romano's  Head — 


SORDELLO.  203 

One  cannot  slacken  pace  so  near  the  goal, 
Suffer  my  Azzo  to  escape  heart-whole 
This  time  !     For  you  there's  Palma  to  espouse — 
For  me,  one  crowning  trouble  ere  I  house 
Like  my  compeer. 

On  which  ensued  a  strange 
And  solemn  visitation — mighty  change 
O'er  every  one  of  them — each  looked  on  each — 
Up  in  the  midst  a  truth  grew,  without  speech, 
And  when  the  giddiness  sank  and  the  haze 
Subsided,  they  were  sitting,  no  amaze, 
Sordello  with  the  baldric  on,  his  sire 
Silent  though  his  proportions  seemed  aspire 
Momently  ;  and,  interpreting  the  thrill 
Nigh  at  its  ebb,  Palma  you  found  was  still 
Relating  somewhat  Adelaide  confessed 
A  year  ago,  while  dying  on  her  breast. 
Of  a  contrivance  that  Yicenza  night. 
Her  Ecelin  had  birth  :  their  convoy's  flight 
Cut  off  a  moment,  coiled  inside  the  flame 
That  wallowed  like  a  dragon  at  his  game 
The  toppling  city  through— San  Biagio  rocks ! 
And  wounded  lies  in  her  delicious  locks 
Retrude,  the  frail  mother,  on  her  face. 
None  of  her  wasted,  just  in  one  embrace 


204  BORDELLO. 

Covering  her  child  :  when,  as  they  lifted  her, 

Cleaving  the  tumult,  mighty,  mightier 

And  mightiest  Taurello's  cry  outbroke, 

Leapt  like  a  tongue  of  fire  that  cleaves  the  smoke. 

Midmost  to  cheer  his  Mantuans  onward — drown 

His  colleague's  clamour,  Ecelin  s,  up,  down 

The  disarray  :  failed  Adelaide  see  then 

Who  was  the  natural  Chief,  the  Man  of  Men  ? 

Outstripping  time  her  Ecelin  burst  swathe. 

Stood  up  with  haggard  eyes  beyond  the  scathe 

From  wandering  after  his  heritage 

Lost  once  and  lost  for  aye — what  could  engage 

That  deprecating  glance  ?     A  new  Shape  leant 

On  a  familiar  Shape — gloatingly  bent 

O'er  his  discomfiture  ;  'mid  wreaths  it  wore. 

Still  one  outflamed  the  rest — her  child's  before 

'Twas  Salinguerra's  for  his  child  :  scorn,  hate 

Rage,  startled  her  from  Ecelin — too  late ! 

A  moment's  work,  and  rival's  foot  had  spurned 

Never  that  brow  to  earth  !     Ere  sense  returned — 

The  act  conceived,  adventured,  and  complete. 

They  stole  away  towards  an  obscure  retreat 

Mother  and  child— Retrude's  self  not  slain 

(Nor  even  here  Taurello  moved)  though  pain 


SORDELLO.  205 

Was  fled ;  and  what  assured  them  most  'twas  fled, 

All  pain,  was,  if  you  raised  the  pale  hushed  head 

'T would  turn  this  way  and  that,  waver  awhile, 

And  only  settle  into  its  old  smile 

(Graceful  as  the  disquieted  water-flag 

Steadying  itself,  remarked  they,  in  the  quag 

On  either  side  their  path)  when  sufi'ered  look 

Downward :  they  marched  :  no  sign  of  life  once  shook 

The  company's  close  litter  of  crossed  spears 

Till,  as  they  reached  Goito,  a  few  tears 

Slipt  in  the  sunset  from  her  long  black  lash, 

And  she  was  gone.     So  far  the  action  rash — 

No  crime.     They  laid  Retrude  in  the  font 

Taurello's  very  gift,  her  child  was  wont 

To  sit  beneath — constant  as  eve  he  came 

To  sit  by  its  attendant  girls  the  same 

As  one  of  them.     For  Palm  a,  she  would  blend 

With  this  magific  spirit  to  the  end 

That  ruled  her  first — but  scarcely  had  she  dared 

To  disobey  the  Adelaide  who  scared 

Her  into  vowing  never  to  disclose 

A  secret  to  her  husband  which  so  froze 

His  blood  at  half  recital  she  contrived 

To  hide  from  him  Taurello's  infant  lived 


206  SORDELLO. 

Lest,  by  revealing  that,  himself  should  mar 

Romano's  fortunes :  and,  a  crime  so  far, 

Palma  received  that  action :  she  was  told 

Of  Salinguerra's  nature,  and  his  cold 

Calm  acquiescence  in  his  lot !     But  free 

Impart  the  secret  to  Romano,  slie 

Engaged  to  repossess  Sordello  of 

His  heritage,  and  hers,  and  that  way  doflP 

The  mask,  but  after  years,  long  years  I — while  now 

Was  not  Romano's  sign-mark  on  that  brow  ? 

Across  Taurello's  heart  his  arms  were  locked : 
And  'twas,  when  speak  he  did,  as  if  he  mocked 
The  minstrel,  who  had  not  to  move,  he  said. 
Not  stir — should  Fate  defraud  him  of  a  shred 
Of  this  son  s  infancy  ?  much  less  of  youth 
(Laughingly  all  this)  which  to  aid,  in  truth, 
Himself,  reserved  on  purpose,  had  not  grown 
Old,  not  too  old — 'twas  better  keep  alone 
Till  now,  and  never  idly  meet  till  now  : 
— Then,  in  the  same  breath,  told  Sordello  how 
The  intimations  of  this  eve's  event 
Were  futile — Friedrich  means  advance  to  Trent, 
Thence  to  Yerona,  then  to  Rome — there  stop — 
Tumble  the  Church  down,  institute  a-top 


SORDELLO.  207 

The  Alps  a  Prefecture  of  Lombardy : 
— That's  now — no  prophesying  what  may  be 
Anon,  beneath  a  monarch  of  the  clime, 
Native  of  Gesi,  passing  his  youth's  prime 
At  Naples.     Tito  bids  my  choice  decide 
On  whom  .  .  . 

Embrace  him,  madman  !   Palma  cried 
Who  through  the  laugh  saw  sweatdrops  burst  apace 
And  his  lips'  blanching :  he  did  not  embrace 
Sordello,  but  he  laid  Sordello's  hand 
On  his  own  eyes,  mouth,  forehead. 

Understand, 
This  while  Sordello  was  becoming  flushed 
Out  of  his  whiteness;  thoughts  rushed,  fancies  rushed ; 
He  pressed  his  hand  upon  his  head  and  signed 
Both  should  forbear  him.     Nay,  the  best's  behind  ! 
Taurello  laughed — not  quite  with  the  same  laugh  : 
The  truth  is,  thus  you  scatter,  ay,  like  chaff 
The  Guelfs  a  despicable  monk  recoils 
From — nor  expect  a  fickle  Kaiser  spoils 
Our  triumph  ! — Friedrich  ?     Think  you  I  intend 
Friedrich  shall  reap  the  fruits  of  blood  I  spend 
And  brain  I  waste  ?     Think  you  the  people  clap 
Their  hands  at  my  out-hewing  this  wild  gap 


208  SORDELLO. 

For  any  Friedricli  to  fill  up  ?     Tis  mine— 

That's  yours :  I  tell  you  towards  some  such  design 

Have  I  worked  blindly,  yes,  and  idly,  yes. 

And  for  another,  yes— but  worked  no  less 

With  instinct  at  my  heart ;  I  else  had  swerved, 

While  now — look  round  !    My  cunning  has  preserved 

Samminiato — that's  a  central  place 

Secures  us  Florence,  boy,  in  Pisa's  case 

By  land  as  she  by  sea ;  with  Pisa  ours. 

And  Florence,  and  Pistoia,  one  devours 

The  land  at  leisure  !     Gloriously  dispersed — 

Brescia,  observe,  Milan,  Piacenza  first 

That  flanked  us  (ah,  you  know  not !)  in  the  March ; 

On  these  we  pile,  as  keystone  of  our  arch, 

Romagna  and  Bologna,  whose  first  span 

Covered  the  Trentine  and  the  Yalsugan  ; 

Sofia's  Egna  by  Bolgiano's  sure  .  .  . 

So  he  proceeded.     Half  of  all  this  pure 

Delusion,  doubtless,  nor  the  rest  too  true, 

But  what  was  undone  he  felt  sure  to  do 

As  ring  by  ring  he  wrung  ofi*,  flung  away 

The  pauldron-rings  to  give  his  sword-arm  play — 

Need  of  the  sword  now  !     That  would  soon  adjust 

Aught  wrong  at  present ;  to  the  sword  intrust 


SORDELLO.  209 

Sordello's  whiteness,  undersize  ;  'twas  plain 

He  hardly  rendered  right  to  his  own  hrain — 

Like  a  brave  hound  men  educate  to  pride 

Himself  on  speed  or  scent  nor  aught  beside, 

As  though  he  could  not,  gift  by  gift,  match  men  ! 

Palma  had  listened  patiently  :  but  when 

Twas  time  expostulate,  attempt  withdraw 

Taurello  from  his  child,  she,  without  aw^e 

Took  off  his  iron  arms  from,  one  by  one, 

Sordello's  shrinking  shoulders,  and,  that  done, 

Made  him  avert  his  visage  and  relieve 

Sordello  (you  might  see  his  corslet  heave         [^sank  : 

The  while)  who,  loose,  rose — tried  to  speak — then 

They  left  him  in  the  chamber — all  was  blank. 

And  even  reeling  down  the  castle-stair 
Taurello  kept  up,  as  though  unaware 
Palma  was  guide  to  him,  the  old  device 
— Something  of  Milan — how  we  muster  thrice 
The  Torriani's  strength  there — all  along 
Our  own  Yisconti  cowed  them — thus  the  song 
Continued  even  while  she  bade  him  stoop, 
Thrid  somehow,  by  some  glimpse  of  arrow-loop. 
The  turnings  to  the  gallery  below. 
Where  he  stopped  short  as  Palma  let  him  go. 
p 


210  SORDELLO. 

When  he  had  sate  in  silence  long  enough 
Splintering  the  stone  bench,  braving  a  rebuff 
She  stopt  the  truncheon ;  only  to  commence 
One  of  Sordello's  poems,  a  pretence 
For  speaking,  some  poor  rhyme  of  Elys'  hair 
And  head  that 's  sharp  and  perfect  like  a  pear, 
So  smooth  and  close  are  laid  the  few  fine  locks 
Stained  like  pale  honey  oozed  from  topmost  rocks 
Sun-blanched  the  livelong  Summer — from  his  worst 
Performance,  the  Goito,  as  his|first : 
And  that  at  end,  conceiving  from  the  brow 
And  open  mouth  no  silence  would  serve  now, 
Went  on  to  say  the  whole  world  loved  that  man 
And,  for  that  matter,  thought  his  face,  tho'  wan, 
Eclipsed  the  Count's — he  sucking  in  each  phrase 
As  if  an  angel  spoke :  the  foolish  praise 
Ended,  he  drew  her  on  his  mailed  knees,  made 
Her  face  a  frame- work  with  his  hands,  a  shade, 
A  crown,  an  aureole — there  must  she  remain 
(Her  little  mouth  compressed  w4th  smiling  pain 
As  in  his  gloves  she  felt  her  tresses  twitch) 
To  get  the  best  look  at,  in  fittest  niche 
Dispose  his  saint ;  that  done,  he  kissed  her  brow — 
Lauded  her  father  for  his  treason  now. 


SORDELLO.  211 

He  told  her,  only  how  could  one  suspect 

The  wit  in  him  ?  whose  clansman,  recollect, 

Was  ever  Salinguerra — she,  the  same, 

Romano  and  his  lady — so  might  claim 

To  know  all,  as  she  should — and  thus  begun 

Schemes  with  a  yengeance,  schemes  on  schemes,  not 

one 
Fit  to  be  told  that  foolish  boy,  he  said. 
But  only  let  Sordello  Palma  wed, 
—Then ! 

*Twas  a  dim  long  narrow  place  at  best : 
Midway  a  sole  grate  showed  the  fiery  West 
As  shows  its  corpse  the  world's  end  some  split  tomb — 
A  gloom,  a  rift  of  fire,  another  gloom 
Faced  Palma — but  at  length  Taurello  set 
Her  free ;  the  grating  held  one  ragged  jet 
Of  fierce  gold  fire :  he  lifted  her  within 
The  hollow  underneath — how  else  begin 
Fate's  second  marvellous  cycle,  else  renew 
The  ages  than  with  Palma  plain  in  view  ? 
Then  paced  the  passage,  hands  clenched,  head  erect. 
Pursuing  his  discourse ;  a  grand  unchecked 
Monotony  made  out  from  his  quick  talk 
And  the  recurring  noises  of  his  walk ; 
p2 


212  SORDELLO. 

— Somewhat  too  much  like  the  o'ercharged  assent 

Of  two  resolved  friends  in  one  danger  blent, 

Who  hearten  each  the  other  against  heart — 

Boasting  there  *s  nought  to  care  for,  when,  apart 

The  boaster,  all's  to  care  for :  he,  beside 

Some  shape  not  visible,  in  power  and  pride 

Approached,  out  of  the  dark,  ginglingly  near, 

Nearer,  passed  close  in  the  broad  light,  his  ear 

Crimson,  eyeballs  suffused,  temples  full- fraught. 

Just  a  snatch  of  the  rapid  speech  you  caught. 

And  on  he  strode  into  the  opposite  dark 

Till  presently  the  harsh  heel's  turn,  a  spark 

r  the  stone,  and  whirl  of  some  loose  embossed  thong 

That  crashed  against  the  angle  aye  so  long 

After  the  last,  punctual  to  an  amount 

Of  mailed  great  paces  you  could  not  but  count. 

Prepared  you  for  the  pacing  back  again  : 

And  by  the  snatches  might  you  ascertain 

That,  Friedrich's  Prefecture  surmounted,  left 

By  this  alone  in  Italy,  they  cleft 

Asunder,  crushed  together,  at  command 

Of  none,  were  free  to  break  up  Hildebrand, 

Rebuild,  he  and  Sordello,  Charlemagne — 

But  garnished.  Strength  with  Knowledge,  if  we  deign 


BORDELLO.  213 

Accept  that  compromise  and  stoop  to  give 

Rome  law,  the  Caesars'  Representative. 

— Enough  that  the  illimitable  flood 

Of  triumphs  after  triumphs,  understood 

In  its  faint  reflux  (you  shall  hear)  sufiiced 

Young  Ecelin  for  appanage,  enticed 

Him  till,  these  long  since  quiet  in  their  graves, 

He  found  'twas  looked  for  that  a  long  life's  braves 

Should  somehow  be  made  good — so,  weak  and  worn, 

Must  stagger  up  at  Milan,  one  grey  morn 

Of  the  To-Come,  to  fight  his  latest  fight. 

And  Salinguerra's  prophecy  at  height — 

He  voluble  with  a  raised  arm  and  stifle, 

A  blaring  voice,  a  blazing  eye,  as  if 

He  had  our  very  Italy  to  keep 

Or  cast  away,  or  gather  in  a  heap 

To  garrison  the  better — ay,  his  word 

Was,  "  run  the  cucumber  into  a  gourd, 

Drive  Trent  upon  Apulia" — at  their  pitch 

Who  spied  the  continents  and  islands  which 

Grew  sickles,  mulberry  leaflets  in  the  map — 

(Strange  that  three  such  confessions  so  should  hap 

To  Palma  Dante  spoke  with  in  the  clear 

Amorous  silence  of  the  Swooning-sphere. 


214  SORDELLO. 

Cunizza,  as  he  called  her !     Never  ask 

Of  Palma  more  !     She  sate,  knowing  her  task 

Was  done,  the  labour  of  it — for  success 

Concerned  not  Palma,  passion  s  votaress) 

Triumph  at  height,  I  say,  Sordello  crowned — 

Above  the  passage  suddenly  a  sound 

Stops  speech,  stops  walk :  back  shrinks  Taurello,  bids 

With  large  involuntary  asking  lids 

Palma  interpret.     Tis  his  own  foot-stamp — 

Your  hand !     His  summons  1     Nay,  this  idle  damp 

Befits  not.     Out  they  two  reeled  dizzily : 

"  Yisconti's  strong  at  Milan,"  resumed  he 

In  the  old  somewhat  insignificant  way 

(Was  Palma  wont  years  afterward  to  say) 

As  though  the  spirit's  flight  sustained  thus  far 

Dropped  at  that  very  instant.     Gone  they  are — 

Palma,  Taurello ;  Eglamor  anon, 

Ecelin,  Alberic  ...  ah,  Naddo  's  gone  ! 

— Labours  this  moonrise  what  the  Master  meant 

"  Is  Squarcialupo  speckled  ? — purulent 

rd  say,  but  when  was  Providence  put  out  ? 

He  carries  somehow  handily  about 

His  spite  nor  fouls  himself ! "     Goito's  vines 

Stand  like  a  cheat  detected — stark  rouoh  lines 


SORDELLO.  215 

The  moon  breaks  through,  a  grey  mean  scale  against 
The  vault  where,  this  eve's  Maiden,  thou  remain  st 
Like  some  fresh  martyr,  eyes  fixed — who  can  tell  ? 
As  Heaven,  now  all's  at  end,  did  not  so  well 
Spite  of  the  faith  and  victory,  to  leave 
Its  virgin  quite  to  death  in  the  lone  eve : 
While  the  persisting  hermit- bee  ...  ha!  wait 
No  longer — these  in  compass,  forward  fate ! 


216  SORDELLO. 


BOOK    THE    SIXTH. 


The  thought  of  Eglamor  's  least  like  a  thought, 

And  yet  a  false  one,  was,  Man  shrinks  to  nought 

If  matched  with  symbols  of  immensity — 

Must  quail,  forsooth,  before  a  quiet  sky 

Or  sea,  too  little  for  their  quietude  : 

And,  truly,  somewhat  in  Sordello's  mood 

Confirmed  its  speciousness  while  evening  sank 

Down  the  near  terrace  to  the  further  bank. 

And  only  one  spot  left  out  of  the  night 

Glimmered  upon  the  river  opposite — 

A  breadth  of  watery  heaven  like  a  bay, 

A  sky-like  space  of  water,  ray  for  ray 

And  star  for  star,  one  richness  where  they  mixed 

As  this  and  that  wing  of  an  angel,  fixed, 

Tumultuary  splendors  folded  in 

To  die  :  nor  turned  he  till  Ferrara's  din 


BORDELLO.  217 

(Say,  the  monotonous  speech  from  a  man's  lip 
Who  lets  some  first  and  eager  purpose  slip 
In  a  new  fancy's  birth  ;  the  speech  keeps  on 
Though  elsewhere  its  informing  soul  be  gone) 
Aroused  him, — surely  ofi'ered  succour ;  fate 
Paused  with  this  eve  ;  ere  she  precipitate 
Herself  .  .  .  put  ofi*  strange  after-thoughts  awhile, 
That  voice,  those  large  hands,  that  portentous  smile  . . . 
What  help  to  pierce  the  Future  as  the  Past 
Lay  in  the  plaining  city  ? 

And  at  last 
The  main  discovery  and  prime  concern. 
All  that  just  now  imported  him  to  learn. 
His  truth,  like  yonder  slow  moon  to  complete 
Heaven,  rose  again,  and  naked  at  his  feet 
Lighted  his  old  life's  every  shift  and  change. 
Effort  with  counter-effort ;  nor  the  range 
Of  each  looked  wrong  except  wherein  it  checked 
Some  other — which  of  these  could  he  suspect 
Prying  into  them  by  the  sudden  blaze  ? 
The  real  way  seemed  made  up  of  all  the  ways — 
Mood  after  mood  of  the  one  mind  in  him  ; 
Tokens  of  the  existence,  bright  or  dim, 
Of  a  transcendent  all-embracing  sense 
Demanding  only  outward  influence, 


218  BORDELLO. 

A  soul,  in  Palma's  phrase,  above  his  soul, 

Power  to  uplift  his  power,  this  moon  s  control, 

Over  the  sea-depths,  and  their  mass  had  swept 

Onward  from  the  beginning  and  still  kept 

Its  course ;  but  years  and  years  the  sky  above 

Held  none,  and  so,  untasked  of  any  love, 

His  sensitiveness  idled,  now  amort. 

Alive  now,  and  to  sullenness  or  sport 

Given  wholly  up,  disposed  itself  anew 

At  every  passing  instigation,  grew 

And  dwindled  at  caprice,  in  foam-showers  spilt, 

Wedge-like  insisting,  quivered  now  a  gilt 

Shield  in  the  sunshine,  now  a  blinding  race 

Of  whitest  ripples  o'er  the  reef — found  place 

For  myriad  charms  ;  not  gathered  up  and,  hurled 

Right  from  its  heart,  encompassing  the  world. 

So  had  Sordello  been,  by  consequence, 

Without  a  function  :  others  made  pretence 

To  strengths  not  half  his  own,  yet  had  some  core 

Within,  submitted  to  some  moon,  before 

It  still,  superior  still  whatever  its  force, 

Were  able  therefore  to  fulfil  a  course 

Nor  missed  Life's  crown,  authentic  attribute — 

To  each  who  lives  must  be  a  certain  fruit 


SORDELLO.  219 

Of  having  lived  in  his  degree,  a  stage 
Earlier  or  later  in  men's  pilgrimage, 
To  stop  at ;  and  to  which  those  spirits  tend 
Who,  still  discovering  beauty  without  end, 
Amass  the  scintillations  for  one  star 
— Something  unlike  them,  self-  sustained,  afar. 
And  meanwhile  nurse  the  dream  of  being  blest 
By  winning  it  to  notice  and  invest 
Their  souls  with  alien  glory  some  one  day 
Whene'er  the  nucleus,  gathering  shape  alway, 
Round  to  the  perfect  circle — soon  or  late 
According  as  themselves  are  formed  to  wait ; 
Whether  'tis  human  beauty  will  suffice 
—The  yellow  hair  and  the  luxurious  eyes, 
Or  human  intellect  seem  best,  or  each 
Combine  in  some  ideal  form  past  reach 
On  earth,  or  else  some  shade  of  these,  some  aim, 
Some  love,  hate  even,  take  their  place  the  same, 
That  may  be  served — all  this  they  do  not  lose. 
Waiting  for  death  to  live,  nor  idly  choose 
What  Hell  shall  be — a  progress  thus  pursued 
Through  all  existence,  still  above  the  food 
That 's  offered  them,  still  towering  beyond 
The  widened  range  in  virtue  of  their  bond 


220  SORDELLO. 

Of  sovereignty :  not  that  a  Palma's  Love 

A  Salinguerra's  Hate  would  equal  prove 

To  swaying  all  Sordello  :  wherefore  doubt, 

Love  meet  for  such  a  Strength,  some  Moon  's  without 

To  match  his  Sea  ? — fear,  Good  so  manifest, 

Only  the  Best  breaks  faith  ? — but  that  the  Best 

Somehow  eludes  us  ever,  still  might  be 

And  is  not :  crave  you  gems  ?  where 's  penury 

Of  their  material  round  us  ?  pliant  earth, 

The  plastic  flame — what  balks  the  Mage  his  birth 

— Jacynth  in  balls,  or  lodestone  by  the  block  ? 

Flinders  enrich  the  strand  and  veins  the  rock — 

No  more  !    Ask  creatures  ?   Life  in  tempest.  Thought 

Clothes  the  keen  hill-top,  mid-day  woods  are  fraught 

With  fervors  .  .  .  ah,  these  forms  are  well  enough — 

But  we  had  hoped,  encouraged  by  the  stuff 

Profuse  at  Nature's  pleasure,  Men  beyond 

These  Men !  and  thus,  perchance,  are  over-fond 

In  arguing,  from  Good  the  Best,  from  force 

Divided — force  combined,  an  ocean  s  course 

From  this  our  sea  whose  mere  intestine  pants 

Had  seemed  at  times  sufficient  to  our  wants. 

— External  Power  ?     If  none  be  adequate 

And  he  have  been  ordained  (a  prouder  fate) 


SORDELLO.  221 

A  law  to  his  own  sphere  ?  the  need  remove 
All  incompleteness  be  that  law,  that  love  ? 
Nay,  really  such  be  other  s  laws,  though  veiled 
In  mercy  to  each  vision  that  had  failed 
If  unassisted  by  its  Want,  for  lure. 
Embodied  ?  stronger  vision  could  endure 
The  simple  want — no  bauble  for  a  truth  ! 
The  People  were  himself ;  and  by  the  ruth 
At  their  condition  was  he  less  impelled 
Alter  the  discrepancy  he  beheld 
Than  if,  from  the  sound  Whole,  a  sickly  Part 
Subtracted  were  transformed,  decked  out  with  art. 
Then  palmed  on  him  as  alien  woe — the  Guelf 
To  succour,  proud  that  he  forsook  himself? 
No  :  All 's  himself — ^all  service,  therefore,  rates 
Alike,  nor  serving  one  part,  immolates 
The  rest :  but  all  in  time  1    That  lance  of  yours 
Makes  havoc  soon  with  Malek  and  his  Moors, 
That  buckler 's  lined  with  many  a  Giant's  beard 
Ere  long,  Porphyrio,  be  the  lance  but  reared, 
The  buckler  wielded  handsomely  as  now  ; 
But  view  your  escort,  bear  in  mind  your  vow. 
Count  the  pale  tracts  of  sand  to  pass  ere  that. 
And,  if  you  hope  we  struggle  through  this  flat. 


222  SORDELLO. 

Put  lance  and  buckler  up  —next  half-month  lacks 
A  sturdy  exercise  of  mace  or  axe 
To  cleave  this  dismal  brake  of  prickly-pear 
That  bristling  holds  Cydippe  by  the  hair, 
Lames  barefoot  Agathon. 

Oh,  People,  urge 
Your  claims  ! — for  thus  he  ventured  to  the  verge 
Push  a  vain  mummery  which  perchance  distrust 
Of  his  fast-slipping  resolution  thrust 
No  less  :  accordingly  the  Crowd — as  yet 
He  had  inconsciously  contrived  forget 
To  dwell  upon  the  points  .  .  .  one  might  assuage 
The  signal  horrors  sooner  than  engage 
With  a  dim  vulgar  vast  unobvious  grief 
Not  to  be  fancied  off,  obtain  relief 
In  brilliant  fits,  cured  by  a  happy  quirk, 
But  by  dim  vulgar  vast  unobvious  work 
To  correspond — however,  forth  they  stood  : 
And  now  content  thy  stronger  vision,  brood 
On  thy  bare  want ;  the  grave  stript  turf  by  turf, 
Study  the  corpse-face  thro'  the  taint-worms'  scurf ! 

Down  sank  the  People  s  Then  ;  uprose  their  Now. 
These  sad  ones  render  service  to  !     And  how 
Piteously  little  must  that  service  prove 
— Had  surely  proved  in  any  case !  for  move 


SORDELLO.  223 

Each  other  obstacle  away,  let  youth 

Have  been  aware  it  had  surprised  a  Truth 

'Twere  service  to  impart — can  Truth  be  seized, 

Settled  forthwith,  and  of  the  captive  eased 

Its  captor  look  around,  since  this  alit 

So  happily,  no  gesture  luring  it. 

The  earnest  of  a  flock  to  follow  ?    Yain, 

Most  vain  !  a  life  's  to  spend  ere  this  he  chain. 

To  the  poor  crowd's  complacence  ;  ere  the  crowd 

Pronounce  it  captured  he  descries  a  cloud 

Its  kin  of  twice  the  plumage— he,  in  turn, 

If  he  shall  live  as  many  lives,  may  learn 

Secure — not  otherwise.     Then  Mantua  called 

Back  to  his  mind  how  certain  bards  were  thralled 

— Buds  blasted,  but  of  breaths  more  like  perfumes 

Than  Naddo's  staring  nosegay's  carrion  blooms 

Could  boast — some  rose  that  burnt  heart  out  in  sweets, 

A  spendthrift  in  the  Spring,  no  Summer  greets — 

Some  Dularete,  drunk  with  truths  and  wine. 

Grown  bestial  dreaming  how  become  divine. 

Yet  to  surmount  this  obstacle,  commence 

With  the  commencement,  merits  crowning  !     Hence 

Must  Truth  be  casual  Truth,  elicited 

In  sparks  so  mean,  at  intervals  dispread 


224  SORDELLO. 

So  rarely,  that  'tis  like  at  no  one  time 

Of  the  world's  story  has  not  Truth,  the  prime 

Of  Truth,  the  very  Truth  which  loosed  had  hurled 

Its  course  aright,  been  really  in  the  world 

Content  the  while  with  some  mean  spark  by  dint 

Of  some  chance-blow,  the  solitary  hint 

Of  buried  fire,  which,  rip  its  breast,  would  stream 

Sky- ward  I 

Sordello's  miserable  gleam 
Was  looked  for  at  the  moment :  he  would  dash 
This  badge  to  earth  and  all  it  brought,  abash 
Taurello  thus,  perhaps  persuade  him  wrest 
The  Kaiser  from  his  purpose ;  would  attest 
His  constancy  in  any  case.     Before 
He  dashes  it,  however,  think  once  more  ! 
For,  was  that  little  truly  service  ?     Ay — 
r  the  end,  no  doubt ;  but  meantime  ?  Plain  you  spy 
Its  ultimate  EflPect,  but  many  flaws 
Of  vision  blur  each  intervening  Cause ; 
Were  the  day's  fraction  clear  as  the  life's  sum 
Of  service.  Now  as  filled  as  the  To-come 
With  evidence  of  good — nor  too  minute 
A  share  to  vie  with  evil !     How  dispute 
The  Guelfs  were  fitliest  maintained  in  rule  ? 
That  made  the  life's  work :  not  so  easy  school 


BORDELLO.  225 

Your  day's  work — say,  on  natures  circumstanced 
So  variously,  which  yet,  as  each  advanced 
Or  might  impede  that  Guelf  rule,  it  behoved 
You,  for  the  Then's  sake,  hate  what  Now  you  loved, 
Love  what  you  hated  ;  nor  if  one  man  bore 
Brand  upon  temples  while  his  fellow  wore 
The  aureole,  would  it  task  us  to  decide — 
But  portioned  duly  out,  the  Future  vied 
Never  with  the  unparcelled  Present !     Smite 
Or  spare  so  much  on  warrant  all  so  slight  ? 
The  Present's  complete  sympathies  to  break. 
Aversions  bear  with,  for  a  Future's  sake 
So  feeble  ?     Tito  ruined  through  one  speck, 
The  Legate  saved  by  his  sole  lightish  fleck  ? 
This  were  work,  true — but  work  performed  at  cost 
Of  other  work — aught  gained  here,  elsewhere  lost — 
For  a  new  segment  spoil  an  orb  half-done — 
Rise  with  the  People  one  step,  and  sink  .  .  .  one  ? 
Would  it  were  one  step — less  than  the  whole  face 
Of  things  our  novel  duty  bids  erase  ! 
Harms  are  to  vanquish  ;  what  ?  the  Prophet  saith. 
The  Minstrel  singeth  vainly  then  ?     Old  faith. 
Old  courage,  born  of  the  surrounding  harms. 
Were  not,  from  highest  to  the  lowest,  charms  ? 
Q 


226  SORDELLO. 

Oh,  flame  persists  but  is  not  glare  as  stanch  ? 

Where  the  salt  marshes  stagnate,  crystals  branch — 

Blood  dries  to  crimson — Evil 's  beautified 

In  every  shape  !     But  Beauty  thrust  aside 

You  banish  Evil :  wherefore  ?     After  all 

Is  Evil  our  result  less  natural 

Than  Good  ?     For  overlook  the  Seasons*  strife 

With  tree  and  flower — the  hideous  animal  life, 

Of  which  who  seeks  shall  find  a  grinning  taunt 

For  his  solution,  must  endure  the  vaunt 

Of  Nature's  angel,  as  a  child  that  knows 

Himself  befooled,  unable  to  propose 

Auofht  better  than  the  foolins: — and  but  care 

For  Men,  the  varied  People  then  and  there, 

Of  wliich  'tis  easy  saying  Good  and  111 

Claim  him  alike  1     Whence  rose  the  claim  but  still 

From  111,  the  fruit  of  111 — what  else  could  knit 

Him  theirs  but  Sorrow  ?     Any  free  from  it 

Were  also  free  from  him  !     A  happiness 

Could  be  distinguished  in  this  morning's  press 

Of  miseries — the  fool's  who  passed  a  gibe 

On  one,  said  he,  so  wedded  to  his  tribe 

He  carries  green  and  yellow  tokens  in 

His  very  face  that  he  's  a  Ghibellin — 


SORDELLO.  227 

Mucli  hold  on  him  that  fool  obtained  f     Nay  mount 
Yet  higher ;  and  upon  Men's  own  account 
Must  Evil  stay :  for  what  is  Joy  ?     To  heave 
Up  one  obstruction  more,  and  common  leave 
What  was  peculiar — by  this  act  destroy 
Itself;  a  partial  death  is  every  joy ; 
The  sensible  escape,  enfranchisement 
Of  a  sphere's  essence  :  once  the  vexed — content. 
The  cramped — at  large,  the  growing  circle — round, 
Airs  to  begin  again — some  novel  bound 
To  break,  some  new  enlargement 's  to  entreat. 
The  sphere  though  larger  is  not  more  complete. 
Now  for  Mankind's  experience  :  who  alone 
Might  style  the  unobstructed  world  his  own  ? 
Whom  palled  Goito  with  its  perfect  things  ? 
Sordello's  self;  whereas  for  Mankind  springs 
Salvation — hindrances  are  interposed 
For  them,  not  all  Life's  view  at  once  disclosed 
To  creatures  sudden  on  its  summit  left 
With  Heaven  above  and  yet  of  wings  bereft — 
But  lower  laid,  as  at  the  mountain's  foot 
Where,  range  on  range,  the  girdling  forests  shoot 
Between  the  prospect  and  the  throngs  who  scale 
Earnestly  ever,  piercing  veil  by  veil, 
Q  2 


228  SORDELLO. 

Confirmed  witli  each  discovery  ;  in  their  soul 

The  Whole  they  seek  by  Parts — but,  found  that  Whole, 

Could  they  revert  ?     Oh,  testify  !     The  space 

Of  time  we  judge  so  meagre  to  embrace 

The  Parts,  were  more  than  plenty,  once  attained 

The  Whole,  to  quite  exhaust  it  :  for  nought 's  gained 

But  leave  to  look — -no  leave  to  do  :  Beneath 

Soon  sates  the  looker — look  Above,  then !     Death 

Tempts  ere  a  tithe  of  Life  be  tasted.     Live 

First,  and  die  soon  enough,  Sordello  !     Give 

Body  and  spirit  the  bare  right  they  claim 

To  pasture  thee  on  a  voluptuous  shame 

That  thou,  a  pageant -city's  denizen. 

Art  neither  vilely  lodged  midst  Lombard  men — 

Canst  force  joy  out  of  sorrow,  seem  to  truck 

Thine  attributes  away  for  sordid  muck, 

Yet  manage  from  that  very  muck  educe 

Gold ;  then  subject,  nor  scruple,  to  thy  cruce 

The  world's  discardings ;  think,  if  ingots  pay 

Such  pains,  the  clods  that  yielded  them  are  clay 

To  all  save  thee,  and  clay  remain  though  quenched 

Thypurging-fire;  who's  robbed  then?  Would  I  wrenched 

An  ample  treasure  forth  ! — As  'tis,  why  crave 

A  share  that  ruins  me  and  will  not  save 


BORDELLO.  ,  229 

Yourselves  ? — imperiously  command  I  quit 
The  course  that  makes  my  joy  nor  will  remit 
Your  woe  ?     Would  all  arrive  at  joy  ?     Reverse 
The  order  (time  instructs  you)  nor  coerce 
Each  unit  till,  some  predetermined  mode, 
The  total  be  emancipate  ;  our  road 
Is  one,  our  times  of  travel  many ;  thwart 
No  enterprising  soul's  precocious  start 
Before  the  general  march  ;  if  slow  or  fast 

All  straggle  up  to  the  same  point  at  last, 
Why  grudge  my  having  gained  a  month  ago 

The  brakes  at  balm-shed,  asphodels  in  blow, 

While  you  w^ere  landlocked?  Speed  your  Then,  but  Iiow 

This  badge  would  suffer  me  improve  my  Now  ! 
His  time  of  action  for,  against,  or  with 

Our  world  (I  labour  to  extract  the  pith 

Of  this  and  more)  grew  up,  that  even- tide. 

Gigantic  with  its  power  of  joy  beside 

The  world's  eternity  of  impotence 

To  profit  though  at  all  his  joy's  expense. 

Make  nothing  of  that  time  because  so  brief? 

Rather  make  more — instead  of  joy  take  grief 

Before  its  novelty  have  time  subside ; 

No  time  for  the  late  savour — leave  untried 


230  SORDELLO. 

Virtue,  the  creaming  honey  wine,  quick  squeeze 
Vice  like  a  biting  spirit  from  the  lees 
Of  life — together  let  wrath,  hatred,  lust. 
All  tyrannies  in  every  shape  be  thrust 
Upon  this  Now,  which  time  may  reason  out 
As  mischiefs,  far  from  benefits,  no  doubt — 
But  long  ere  then  Bordello  will  have  slipt 
Away — you  teach  him  at  Goito's  crypt 
There's  a  blank  issue  to  that  fiery  thrill ! 
Stirring,  the  Few  cope  with  the  Many,  still : 
So  much  of  dust  as,  quiet,  makes  a  mass 
Unable  to  produce  three  tufts  of  grass. 
Shall,  troubled  by  the  whirlwind,  render  void 
The  whole  calm  glebe's  endeavour  :  be  employed  ! 
And  e*en  though  somewhat  smarts  the  Crowd  for  this. 
Contributes  each  his  pang  to  make  up  bliss, 
'Tis  but  one  pang — one  blood-drop  to  the  bowl 
Which  brimful  tempts  the  sluggish  asp  uncowl 
So  quick,  stains  ruddily  the  dull  red  cape, 
And,  kindling  orbs  dull  as  the  unripe  grape 
Before,  avails  forthwith  to  disentrance 
The  mischief — soon  to  lead  a  mystic  dance 
Among  you  !     Nay,  who  sits  alone  in  Rome  ? 
Have  those  great  hands  indeed  hewn  out  a  home 


SORDELLO.  231 

For  me— compelled  to  live  ?     Oh  Life,  life-breath, 

Life-blood, — ere  sleep  be  travail,  life  ere  death  1 

This  life  to  feed  my  soul,  direct,  oblique, 

But  alway  feeding  !     Hindrances  ?     They  pique — 

Helps  ?  such  .  .  .  but  wherefore  say  my  soul  o'ertops 

All  height — than  every  depth  profounder  drops  ? 

Enough  that  I  can  live,  and  would  live !     Wait 

For  some  transcendent  life  reserved  by  Fate 

To  follow  this  ?     Oh,  never  !     Fate  I  trust 

The  same  my  soul  to  ;  for,  as  who  flings  dust 

Perchance — so  facile  was  the  deed,  she  chequed 

The  void  with  these  materials  to  affect 

That  soul  diversely — these  consigned  anew 

To  nought  by  death,  why  marvel  if  she  threw 

A  second  and  superber  spectacle 

Before  it  ?     What  may  serve  for  sun— what  still 

Wander  a  moon  above  me — what  else  wind 

About  me  like  the  pleasures  left  behind  ? 

And  how  shall  some  new  flesh  that  is  not  flesh 

Cling  to  me  ?  what's  new  laughter — soothes  the  fresh 

Sleep  like  sleep  ?     Fate  's  exhaustless  for  my  sake 

In  brave  resource,  but  whether  bids  she  slake 

My  thirst  at  this  first  rivulet  or  count 

No  draught  worth  lip  save  from  the  rocky  fount 


232  SORDELLO. 

Above  i'  the  clouds,  while  here  she's  provident 

Of  (taste)  loquacious  pearl  the  soft  tree-tent 

Guards,  with  its  face  of  reate  and  sedge,  nor  fail 

The  silver  globules  and  gold-sparkling  grail 

At  bottom— Oh,  'twere  too  absurd  to  slight 

For  the  hereafter  the  to-day's  delight ! 

Quench  thirst  at  this,  then  seek  next  well-spring — wear 

Home-lilies  ere  strange  lotus  in  my  hair  ! 

Here  is  the  Crowd,  whom  I  with  freest  heart 

Offer  to  serve,  contented  for  my  part 

To  give  this  life  up  once  for  aril,  but  grant 

I  really  serve  ;  if  otherwise,  why  want 

Aught  further  of  me  ?     Life  they  cannot  chuse 

But  set  aside — wherefore  should  I  refuse 

The  gift  ?     I  take  it — I,  for  one,  engage 

Never  to  falter  through  the  pilgrimage — 

Or  end  it  howling  that  the  stock  or  stone 

Were  enviable,  truly  :  I,  for  one. 

Will  praise  the  world  you  style  mere  anteroom 

To  the  true  palace — but  shall  I  assume 

— My  foot  the  courtly  gait,  my  tongue  the  trope. 

My  eye  the  glance,  before  the  doors  fly  ope 

One  moment  ?     What — with  guarders  row  on  row^ 

Gay  swarms  of  varletry  that  come  and  go. 


SORDELLO.  233 

Pages  to  dice  with,  waiting-girls  unlace 

The  plackets  of,  pert  claimants  help  displace, 

Heart-heavy  suitors  get  a  rank  for ;  laugh 

At  yon  sleek  parasite,  break  his  own  staff 

'Cross  Beetle-brows  the  Usher's  shoulder  ;  why — 

Admitted  to  the  presence  by  and  bye. 

Should  thought  of  these  recurring  make  me  grieve 

Among  new  sights  I  reach,  old  sights  I  leave  ? 

— Cool  citrine-crystals,  fierce  pyropus-stone — 

Bare  floor -work  too  ! — But  did  I  let  alone 

That  black-eyed  peasant  in  the  vestibule 

Once  and  for  ever  ? — Floor- work  ?     No  such  fool ! 

Rather,  were  Heaven  to  forestal  Earth,  I'd  say 

Must  I  be  blessed  or  you  ?     Then  my  own  way 

Bless  me — a  firmer  arm,  a  fleeter  foot, 

111  thank  you,  but  to  no  mad  wings  transmute 

These  limbs  of  mine — our  greensward  is  too  soft ; 

Nor  camp  I  on  the  thunder-cloud  aloft — 

We  feel  the  bliss  distinctlier  having  thus 

Engines  subservient,  not  mixed  up  with  us — 

Better  move  palpably  through  Heaven — nor,  freed 

Of  flesh  forsooth,  from  space  to  space  proceed 

'Mid  flying  synods  of  worlds — but  in  Heaven's  marge 

Show  Titan  still,  recumbent  o'er  his  targe 


234  SORDELLO. 

Solid  with  stars — the  Centaur  at  his  game 
Made  tremulously  out  in  hoary  flame  ! 

Life  !    Yet  the  very  cup  whose  extreme  dull 
Dregs,  even,  I  would  quaflf,  was  dashed,  at  full, 
Aside  so  oft ;  the  death  I  fly,  revealed 
So  oft  a  better  life  this  life  concealed 
And  which  sage,  champion,  martyr,  thro'  each  path 
Have  hunted  fearlessly — the  horrid  bath, 
The  crippling- irons  and  the  fiery  chair : 
— 'Twas  well  for  them ;  let  me  become  aware 
As  they,  and  I  relinquish  Life,  too  !     Let 
Life's  secret  but  disclose  itself !     Forget 
Vain  ordinances,  I  have  one  appeal — 
I  feel,  am  what  I  feel,  know  what  I  feel 
— So  much  is  Truth  to  me — What  Is  then  ?     Since 
One  object  viewed  diversely  may  evince 
Beauty  and  ugliness — this  way  attract, 
That  way  repel,  why  gloze  upon  the  fact  ? 
Why  must  a  single  of  the  sides  be  right  ? 
Who  bids  choose  this  and  leave  its  opposite  ? 
No  abstract  Right  for  me — in  youth  endued 
With  Right  still  present,  still  to  be  pursued, 
Thro'  all  the  interchange  of  circles,  rife 
Each  with  its  proper  law  and  mode  of  life, 


SORDELLO.  235 

Each  to  be  dwelt  at  ease  in  :  thus  to  sway- 
Regally  witli  the  Kaiser,  or  obey 
Implicit  with  his  Serf  of  fluttering  heart, 
Or,  like  a  sudden  thought  of  God's,  to  start 
Up  in  the  presence,  then  go  forth  and  shout 
That  some  should  pick  the  unstrung  jewels  out — 
Were  well ! 

And,  as  in  moments  when  the  Past 
Gave  partially  enfranchisement,  he  cast 
Himself  quite  thro'  mere  secondary  states 
Of  his  soul's  essence,  little  loves  and  hates, 
Into  the  mid  vague  yearnings  overlaid 
By  these ;    as  who  should  pierce  hill,  plain,  grove, 

glade. 
And  so  into  the  very  nucleus  probe 
That  first  determined  there  exist  a  Globe : 
And  as  that 's  easiest  half  the  globe  dissolved. 
So  seemed  Sordello's  closing-truth  evolved 
In  his  flesh -half 's  break  up — the  sudden  swell 
Of  his  expanding  soul  showed  111  and  Well, 
Sorrow  and  Joy,  Beauty  and  Ugliness 
Virtue  and  Yice,  the  Larger  and  the  Less, 
All  qualities,  in  fine,  recorded  here. 
Might  be  but  Modes  of  Time  and  this  one  Sphere, 


236  SORDELLO. 

Urgent  on  these  but  not  of  force  to  bind 

As  Time — Eternity,  as  Matter — Mind, 

If  Mind,  Eternity  shall  choose  assert 

Their  attributes  within  a  Life :  thus  girt 

With  circumstance,  next  change  beholds  them  cinct 

Quite  otherwise — with  Good  and  111  distinct, 

Joys,  sorrows,  tending  to  a  like  result — 

Contrived  to  render  easy,  difficult, 

This  or  the  other  course  of  .  .  .  what  new  bond 

In  place  of  flesh  may  stop  their  flight  beyond 

Its  new  sphere,  as  that  course  does  harm  or  good 

To  its  arrangements.     Once  this  understood, 

As  suddenly  he  felt  himself  alone, 

Quite  out  of  Time  and  this  World,  all  was  known. 

What  made  the  secret  of  the  past  despair  ? 

(Most  imminent  when  he  seemed  most  aware 

Of  greatness  in  the  Past — nought  turned  him  mad 

Like  craving  to  expand  the  power  he  had. 

Not  a  new  power  to  be  expanded) — just 

This  made  it ;  Soul  on  Matter  being  thrust, 

Tis  Joy  when  so  much  Soul  is  wreaked  in  Time 

On  Matter, — let  the  Soul  attempt  sublime 

Matter  beyond  its  scheme  and  so  prevent 

Or  more  or  less  that  deed's  accomplishment. 


BORDELLO.  237 

And  Sorrow  follows :  Sorrow  to  avoid — 

Let  the  Employer  match  the  thing  Employed, 

Fit  to  the  finite  his  infinity, 

And  thus  proceed  for  ever,  in  degree 

Changed  but  in  kind  the  same,  still  limited 

To  the  appointed  circumstance  and  dead 

To  all  beyond  :  a  sphere  is  but  a  sphere — 

Small,  Great,  are  merely  terms  we  bandy  here — 

Since  to  the  spirit's  absoluteness  all 

Are  like :  now  of  the  present  sphere  we  call 

Life,  are  conditions — take  but  this  among 

Many ;  the  Body  was  to  be  so  long 

Youthful,  no  longer — but,  since  no  control 

Tied  to  that  Body's  purposes  his  Soul, 

It  chose  to  understand  the  Body's  trade 

More  than  the  Body's  self — had  fain  conveyed 

Its  boundless,  to  the  body's  bounded  lot — 

So,  the  soul  permanent,  the  body  not, — 

Scarce  the  one  minute  for  enjoying  here. 

The  soul  must  needs  instruct  its  weak  compeer, 

Run  o'er  its  capabilities  and  wring 

A  joy  thence  it  holds  worth  experiencing — 

Which,  far  from  half  discovered  even, — lo, 

The  minute's  gone,  the  body's  power's  let  go 


238  SORDELLO. 

Apportioned  to  that  joy*s  acquirement !     Broke, 

Say,  morning  o'er  the  earth  and  all  it  woke — 

From  the  volcano's  vapour-flag  to  hoist 

Black  o'er  the  spread  of  sea,  to  the  low  moist 

Dale's  silken  barley- spikes  sullied  with  rain, 

Swayed  earthwards,  heavily  to  raise  again — 

(The  Small  a  sphere  as  perfect  as  the  Great 

To  the  soul's  absoluteness) — meditate 

On  such  an  Autumn-morning's  cluster-chord 

And  the  whole  music  it  was  framed  afford, 

And,  the  chord's  might  discovered,  what  should  pluck 

One  string,  the  finger,  was  found  palsy -struck. 

And  then  what  marvel  if  the  Spirit,  shown 

A  saddest  sight — the  Body  lost  alone 

Thro'  its  officious  proffered  help,  deprived 

Of  this  and  that  enjoyment  Fate  contrived. 

Virtue,  Good,  Beauty,  each  allowed  slip  hence, — 

Yain  gloriously  were  fain,  for  recompense. 

To  stem  the  ruin  even  yet,  protract 

The  Body's  term,  supply  the  power  it  lacked 

From  its  infinity,  compel  it  learn 

These  qualities  were  only  Time's  concern, 

That  Body  may,  with  its  assistance,  barred — 

Advance  the  same,  vanquished — obtain  reward, 


SORDELLO.  239 

Reap  joy  where  sorrow  was  intended  grow, 

Of  Wrong  make  Eight  and  turn  111  Good  below — 

And  the  result  is,  the  poor  Body  soon 

Sinks  under  what  was  meant  a  wondrous  boon, 

Leaving  its  bright  accomplice  all  aghast. 

So  much  was  plain  then,  proper  in  the  Past ; 
To  be  complete  for,  satisfy  the  whole 
Series  of  spheres — Eternity,  his  soul 
Exceeded,  so  was  incomplete  for,  each 
One  sphere — our  Time.  But  does  our  knowledge  reach 
No  farther  ?     Is  the  cloud  of  hindrance  broke 
But  by  the  failing  of  the  fleshly  yoke, 
Its  loves  and  hates,  as  now  when  they  let  soar 
The  spirit,  self-sufficient  as  before, 
Tho'  but  the  single  space  that  shall  elapse 
Twixt  its  enthralment  in  new  bonds  perhaps  ? 
Must  Life  be  ever  but  escaped,  which  should 
Have  been  enjoyed  ?  nay,  might  have  been  and  would, 
Once  ordered  rightly,  and  a  Soul's  no  whit 
More  than  the  Body's  purpose  under  it 
(  A-  breadth  of  watery  heaven  like  a  bay, 
A  sky-like  space  of  water,  ray  for  ray 
And  star  for  star,  one  richness  where  they  mixed 
As  this  and  that  wing  of  an  angel,  fixed, 


240  SORDELLO. 

Tumultuary  splendours  folded  in 

To  die)  and  which  thus,  far  from  first  begin 

Exciting  discontent,  had  surest  quelled 

The  Body  if  aspiring  it  rebelled. 

But  how  so  order  Life  ?     Still  brutalize 

The  soul,  the  sad  world's  method — muffled  eyes 

To  all  that  was  before,  shall  after  be 

This  sphere — and  every  other  quality 

Save  some  sole  and  immutable  Great  and  Good 

And  Beauteous  whither  fate  has  loosed  its  hood 

To  follow  ?     Never  may  some  soul  see  All 

— The  Great  before  and  after  and  the  Small 

Now,  yet  be  saved  by  this  the  simplest  lore, 

And  take  the  single  course  prescribed  before, 

As  the  king-bird  with  ages  on  his  plumes 

Travels  to  die  in  his  ancestral  glooms  ? 

But  where  descry  the  Love  that  shall  select 

That  course  ?     Here  is  a  Soul  whom  to  affect 

Nature  has  plied  with  all  her  means — from  trees 

And  flowers — e'en  to  the  Multitude  .  .  .  and  these 

Decides  he  save  or  no  ?     One  word  to  end ! 

Ah  my  Sordello,  I  this  once  befriend 
And  speak  for  you.    A  Power  above  him  still 
Which,  utterly  incomprehensible, 


SORDELLO.  241 

Is  out  of  rivalry,  which  thus  he  can 

Love,  tho'  unloving  all  conceived  by  Man — 

What  need  !     And  of — none  the  minutest  duct 

To  that  out-Nature,  nought  that  would  instruct 

And  so  let  rivalry  begin  to  live  — 

But  of  a  Power  its  representative 

Who,  being  for  authority  the  same. 

Communication  different,  should  claim 

A  course  the  first  chose  and  this  last  revealed — 

This  Human  clear,  as  that  Divine  concealed — 

The  utter  need ! 

What  has  Sordello  found  ? 
Or  can  his  spirit  go  the  mighty  round 
At  length,  end  where  our  souls  begun  ?  as  says 
Old  fable,  the  two  doves  were  sent  two  ways 
About  the  world — where  in  the  midst  they  met 
Tho'  on  a  shifting  waste  of  sand,  men  set 
Jove's  temple  ?     Quick,  what  has  Sordello  found  ? 
For  they  approach — approach — that  foot's  rebound . . 
Palma  ?     No,  Salinguerra  tho'  in  mail ; 
They  mount,  have  reached  the  threshold,  dash  the  veil 
Aside— and  you  divine  who  sat  there  dead 
Under  his  foot  the  badge ;  still,  Palma  said, 
A  triumph  lingering  in  the  wide  eyes 
Wider  than  some  spent  swimmer's  if  he  spies 

R 


242  BORDELLO. 

Help  from  above  in  his  extreme  despair 

And,  head  far  back  on  shoulder  thrust,  turns  there 

With  short  and  passionate  cry  ;  as  Palma  prest 

In  one  great  kiss  her  lips  upon  his  breast 

It  beat.     By  this  the  hermit-bee  has  stopped 

His  day's  toil  at  Goito — the  new  cropped 

Dead  vine-leaf  answers,  now  *tis  eve,  he  bit, 

Twirled  so,  and  filed  all  day — the  mansion  s  fit 

God  counselled  for ;  as  easy  guess  the  word 

That  passed  betwixt  them  and  become  the  third 

To  the  soft  small  unfrighted  bee,  as  tax 

Him  with  one  fault — so  no  remembrance  racks 

Of  the  stone  maidens  and  the  font  of  stone 

He,  creeping  thro*  the  crevice,  leaves  alone — 

Alas,  my  friend — Alas  Sordello  !  whom 

Anon  we  laid  within  that  cold  font-tomb — 

And  yet  again  alas  ! 

And  now  is  't  worth 
Our  while  bring  back  to  mind,  much  less  set  forth 
How  Salinguerra  extricates  himself 
Without  Sordello  ?     Ghibellin  and  Guelf 
May  fight  their  fiercest  ?     If  Count  Richard  sulked 
In  durance  or  the  Marquis  paid  his  mulct, 
Who  cares,  Sordello  gone  ?     The  upshot,  sure, 
Was  peace  ;  our  chief  made  some  frank  overture 


SORDELLO.  243 

That  prospered  ;  compliment  fell  thick  and  fast 
On  its  disposer,  and  Taurello  passed 
With  foe  and  friend  for  an  outstripping  soul 
Nine  days  at  least :  then,  fairly  reached  the  goal, 
He,  by  one  effort,  blotted  the  great  hope 
Out  of  his  mind,  no  further  tried  to  cope 
With  Este  that  mad  evening's  style,  but  sent 
Away  tlie  Legate  and  the  League,  content 
No  blame  at  least  the  brothers  had  incurred, 
— Despatched  a  message  to  the  Monk  he  heard 
Patiently  first  to  last,  scarce  shivered  at. 
Then  curled  his  limbs  up  on  his  wolfskin  mat 
And  ne'er  spoke  more, — informed  the  Ferrarese 
He  but  retained  their  rule  so  long  as  these 
Lingered  in  pupilage — and  last,  no  mode 
Apparent  else  of  keeping  safe  the  road 
From  Germany  direct  to  Lombardy 
For  Friedrich,  none,  that  is,  to  guarantee 
The  faith  and  promptitude  of  who  should  next 
Obtain  Sofia's  dowry,  sore  perplexed — 
(Sofia  being  youngest  of  the  tribe 
Of  daughters  Ecelin  was  wont  to  bribe 
The  envious  magnates  with — nor  since  he  sent 
Enrico  Egna  this  fair  child  had  Trent 
R  2 


244  SORDELLO. 

Once  failed  the  Kaiser  s  purposes — we  lost 

Egna  last  year,  and  who  takes  Egna's  post — 

Opens  the  Lombard  gate  if  Friedrich  knock  ?) 

Himself  espoused  the  Lady  of  the  Rock 

In  pure  necessity,  and  so  destroyed 

His  slender  last  of  chances,  quite  made  void 

Old  prophecy,  and  spite  of  all  the  schemes 

Overt  and  covert,  youth's  deeds,  age's  dreams, 

Was  sucked  into  Romano :  and  so  hushed 

He  up  this  evening's  work,  that  when,  'twas  brushed 

Somehow  against  by  a  blind  chronicle 

Which,  chronicling  whatever  woe  befell 

Ferrara,  scented  this  the  obscure  woe 

And  "  Salinguerra's  sole  son  Giacomo 

Deceased,  fatuous  and  doting,  ere  his  Sire," 

The  townsfolk  rubbed  their  eyes,  could  but  admire 

Which  of  Soj&a's  five  he  meant.     The  chaps 

Of  his  dead  hope  were  tardy  to  collapse, 

Obliterated  not  the  beautiful 

Distinctive  features  at  a  crash — scarce  dull 

Next  year,  as  Azzo,  Boniface  withdrew 

Each  to  his  stronghold  ;  then  (securely  too 

Ecelin  at  Campese  slept—close  by 

Who  likes  may  see  him  in  Solagna  lie 


BORDELLO.  245 

With  cushioned  head  and  gloved  hand  to  denote 

The  Cavalier  he  was) — then  his  heart  smote 

Young  Ecelin,  conceive  !     Long  since  adult, 

And,  save  Yicenza's  business,  what  result 

In  blood  and  blaze  ?  so  hard  'twas  intercept 

Sordello  till  Sordello's  option  !     Stept 

Its  lord  on  Lombardy — for  in  the  nick 

Of  time  when  he  at  last  and  Alberic 

Closed  with  Taurello,  came  precisely  news 

That  in  Yerona  half  the  souls  refuse 

Allegiance  to  the  Marquis  and  the  Count — 

Have  cast  them  from  a  throne  they  bid  him  mount. 

Their  Podesta,  thro'  his  ancestral  worth  : 

Ecelin  flew  there,  and  the  town  henceforth 

Was  wholly  his — Taurello  sinking  back 

From  temporary  station  to  a  track 

That  suited  :  news  received  of  this  acquist, 

Friedrich  did  come  to  Lombardy — who  missed 

Taurello  ?     Yet  another  year — they  took 

Yicenza,  left  the  Marquis  scarce  a  nook 

For  refuge,  and,  when  hundreds  two  or  three 

After  conspired  to  call  themselves  "  the  Free," 

Opposing  Alberic,  these  Bassanese, 

(Without  Sordello  !) — Ecelin  at  ease 


246  SORDELLO. 

Slaughtered  them  so  observably  that  oft 

A  little  Salinguerra  looked  with  soft 

Blue  eyes  up,  asked  his  sire  the  proper  age 

To  get  appointed  his  proud  uncle's  page : 

More  years  passed,  and  that  sire  was  dwindled  down 

To  a  mere  showy  turbulent  soldier,  grown 

Better  through  age,  his  parts  still  in  repute, 

Subtle — how  else  ? — but  hardly  so  astute 

As  his  contemporaneous  friends  professed — 

Undoubtedly  a  brawler — for  the  rest. 

Known  by  each  neighbour,  so  allowed  for,  let 

Keep  his  incorrigible  ways,  nor  fret 

Men  who  had  missed  their  boyhood's  bugbear — trap 

The  ostrich,  suffer  our  bald  osprey  flap 

A  battered  pinion — was  the  word.     In  fine. 

One  flap  too  much  and  Venice's  marine 

Was  meddled  with ;  no  overlooking  that ! 

We  captured  him  in  his  Ferrara,  fat 

And  florid  at  a  banquet,  more  by  fraud 

Than  force,  to  speak  the  truth — there  's  slender  laud 

Ascribed  you  for  assisting  eighty  years 

To  pull  his  death  on  such  a  man — fate  shears 

The  life-cord  prompt  enough  whose  last  fine  threads 

You  fritter :  so,  presiding  his  board-head, 


SORDELLO.  247 

A  great  smile  your  assurance  all  went  well 
With  Friedrich  (as  if  he  were  like  to  tell !) 
In  rushed  (a  plan  contrived  before)  our  friends, 
Made  some  pretence  at  fighting,  just  amends 
For  the  shame  done  his  eighty  years — apart 
The  principle,  none  found  it  in  his  heart 
To  be  much  angry  with  Taurello — gained 
Our  galleys  with  the  prize,  and  w^hat  remained 
But  carry  him  to  Venice  for  a  show  ? 
— Set  him,  as  'twere,  down  gently-^free  to  go 
His  gait,  inspect  our  square,  pretend  observe 
The  swallows  soaring  their  eternal  curve 
Twixt  Theodore  and  Mark,  if  citizens 
Gathered  importunately,  fives  and  tens. 
To  point  their  children  the  Magnifico, 
All  but  a  monarch  once  in  firm-land,  go 
His  gait  among  us  now — it  took,  indeed, 
Fully  this  Ecelin  to  supersede 
That  man,  remarked  the  seniors.     Singular 
Sordello's  inability  to  bar 
Rivals  the  stage,  that  evening,  mainly  brought 
About  by  his  strange  disbelief  that  aught 
Was  to  be  done,  should  fairly  thrust  the  Twain 
Under  Taurello's  tutelage,  that,  brain 


248  SORDELLO. 

And  heart  and  hand,  he  forthwith  in  one  rod 

Indissolubly  bound  to  baffle  God 

Who  loves  the  world — should  thus  allow  the  thin 

Grey  wizened  dwarfish  devil  Ecelin, 

And  massy-mascled  big-boned  Alberic 

(Mere  man,  alas)  to  put  his  problem  quick 

To  demonstration — prove  wherever  s  will 

To  do,  there's  plenty  to  be  done,  or  ill 

Or  good  :  anointed,  then,  to  rend  and  rip — 

Kings  of  the  gag  and  flesh -hook,  screw  and  whip, 

They  plagued  the  world  :  a  touch  of  Hildebrand 

(So  far  from  obsolete  !)  made  Lombards  band 

Together,  cross  their  coats  as  for  Christ's  cause, 

And  saving  Milan  win  the  world's  applause. 

Ecelin  perished  :  and  I  think  grass  grew 

Never  so  pleasant  as  in  Yalley  Hu 

By  San  Zenon  where  Alberic  in  turn 

Saw  his  exasperated  captors  burn 

Seven  children  with  their  mother,  and,  regaled 

So  far,  tied  on  to  a  wild  horse,  was  trailed 

To  death  through  raunce  and  bramble-bush  :  I  take 

God's  part  and  testify  that  mid  the  brake 

Wild  o'er  his  castle  on  Zenone's  knoll 

You  hear  its  one  tower  left,  a  belfry,  toll — 


SORDELLO.  249 

Cherups  the  contumacious  grasshopper, 
Rustles  the  lizard  and  the  cushats  chirre 
Above  the  ravage :  there,  at  deep  of  day 
A  week  since,  heard  I  the  old  Canon  say- 
He  saw  with  his  own  eyes  a  barrow  burst 
And  Alberic's  huge  skeleton  unhearsed 
Five  years  ago,  no  more  :  he  added,  June's 
A  month  for  carding  off  our  first  cocoons 
The  silkworms  fabricate— a  double  news. 
Nor  he  nor  I  could  tell  the  worthier.     Choose  ! 
And  Naddo  gone,  all's  gone  ;  not  Eglamor  ! 
Believe  I  knew  the  face  I  waited  for, 
A  guest  my  spirit  of  the  golden  courts  : 
Oh  strange  to  see  how,  despite  ill-reports, 
Disuse,  some  wear  of  years,  that  face  retained 
Its  joyous  look  of  love  !     Suns  waxed  and  waned. 
And  still  my  spirit  held  an  upward  flight. 
Spiral  on  spiral,  gyres  of  life  and  light 
More  and  more  gorgeous — ever  that  face  there 
The  last  admitted  !  crossed,  too,  with  some  care 
As  perfect  triumph  were  not  sure  for  all. 
But  on  a  few  enduring  damp  must  fall, 
A  transient  struggle,  haply  a  painful  sense 
Of  the  inferior  nature's  clinging — whence 


250  SORDELLO. 

Slight  starting  tears  easily  wiped  away, 
Fine  jealousies  soon  stifled  in  the  play 
Of  irrepressible  admiration — not 
Aspiring,  all  considered,  to  their  lot 
Who  ever,  just  as  they  prepare  ascend 
Spiral  on  spiral,  wish  thee  well,  impend 
Thy  frank  delight  at  their  exclusive  track, 
That  upturned  fervid  face  and  hair  put  back ! 

Is  there  no  more  to  say  ?     He  of  the  rhymes — 
Many  a  tale  of  this  retreat  betimes 
Was  born  :  Sordello  die  at  once  for  men  ? 
The  Chroniclers  of  Mantua  tired  their  pen 
Relating  how  a  Prince  Yisconti  saved 
Mantua  and  elsewhere  notably  behaved — 
Who  thus  by  fortune's  ordering  events 
Passed  with  posterity  to  all  intents 
For  just  the  God  he  never  could  become  : 
As  Knight,  Bard,  Gallant,  men  were  never  dumb 
In  praise  of  him  :  while  what  he  should  have  been, 
Could  be,  and  was  not — the  one  step  too  mean 
For  him  to  take,  we  suffer  at  this  day 
Because  of ;  Ecelin  had  pushed  away 
Its  chance  ere  Dante  could  arrive  to  take 
That  step  Sordello  spurned,  for  the  world's  sake : 


SORDELLO.  251 

He  did  much — but  Sordello's  step  was  gone. 
Thus  had  Sordello  ta'en  that  step  alone, 
Apollo  had  been  compassed — 'twas  a  fit 
He  wished  should  go  to  him,  not  he  to  it 
— As  one  content  to  merely  be  supposed 
Singing  or  fighting  elsewhere,  while  he  dozed 
Really  at  home*— and  who  was  chiefly  glad 
To  have  achieved  the  few  real  deeds  he  had 
Because  that  way  assured  they  were  not  worth 
Doing,  so  spared  from  doing  them  henceforth — 
A  tree  that  covets  fruitage  and  yet  tastes 
Never  itself,  itself — had  he  embraced 
Our  cause  then,  Men  had  plucked  Hesperian  fruit 
And,  praising  that,  just  thrown  him  in  to  boot 
All  he  was  anxious  to  appear  but  scarce 
Solicitous  to  be  :  a  sorry  farce 
Such  life  is  after  all — cannot  I  say 
He  lived  for  some  one  better  thing  ?  this  way — 
Lo,  on  a  heathy  brown  and  nameless  hill 
By  sparkling  Asolo,  in  mist  and  chill, 
Morning  just  up,  higher  and  higher  runs 
A  child  barefoot  and  rosy— See  !  the  sun's 
On  the  square  castle's  inner- court's  green  wall 
— Like  the  chine  of  some  fossil  animal 


252  SORDELLO. 

Half  turned  to  earth  and  flowers  ;  and  thro'  the  haze 

(Save  where  some  slender  patches  of  grey  maize) 

Are  to  be  overleaped)  that  boy  has  crost 

The  whole  hill-side  of  dew  and  powder-frost 

Matting  the  balm  and  mountain  camomile  : 

Up  and  up  goes  he,  singing  all  the  while 

Some  unintelligible  words  to  beat 

The  lark,  God's  poet,  swooning  at  his  feet 

So  worsted  is  he  at  the  few  fine  locks 

Stained  like  pale  honey  oozed  from  topmost  rocks 

Sunblanched  the  livelong  summer. — All  that's  left 

Of  the  Goito  lay  !     And  thus  bereft, 

Sleep  and  forget,  Sordello  ...  in  effect 

He  sleeps,  the  feverish  poet — I  suspect 

Not  utterly  companionless  ;  but,  friends. 

Wake  up  ;  the  ghost's  gone,  and  the  story  ends 

I'd  fain  hope,  sweetly — seeing,  peri  or  ghoul, 

That  spirits  are  conjectured  fair  or  foul. 

Evil  or  good,  judicious  authors  think, 

According  as  they  vanish  in  a  stink 

Or  in  a  perfume  :  friends  be  frank  :  ye  snuff 

Civet,  I  warrant :  really  ?     Like  enough — 

Merely  the  savour's  rareness — any  nose 

May  ravage  with  impunity  a  rose— 


SORDELLO.  253 


Rifle  a  musk-pod  and  'twill  ache  like  yours  : 
I'd  tell  you  that  same  pungency  ensures 
An  after-gust — but  that  were  overbold  : 
Who  would  has  heard  Sordello's  story  told. 


THE    END. 


LONDON  : 
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By  the  same  Author. 


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